Saturday in the Park
by CharmedMummy
Summary: Thirty years into the future where will the team be? This is one possibility... Part of my Everything Old is New Again series.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** I'm not much for long-winded author's notes, so here's what you need to know: this story is about 30-35 years into the future and everyone on the team is in here in some shape or form plus I've thrown in a few new characters. Also, there will be the occasional bad word and stuff, so please heed the rating and turn around if that isn't your thing. The rest I'll leave up to you to discover. :)

I must give huge thanks to **printandpolish** (who doesn't even watch CSI:NY!) and **Kerry Blue** who were gracious enough to beta for me and find all my careless mistakes (of which there were many). Any mistakes still in the story are completely my fault.

Disclaimer: I do not own _CSI:NY_, its characters, or any storylines from the show that I may make reference to from time to time. I also do not own New York City just in case you were wondering. I do own everything else for whatever that's worth.

I will be updating regularly because the story is almost completely written. Enjoy. :)

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She had really missed this. Sure, she could run anywhere and had actually traversed numerous paths over the years, but there would always be something special about Central Park. There was no other place like it and being able to experience it again was definitely a plus to being transferred to New York City. 

There were a million things she should probably be doing this Saturday morning instead of being on these paths since she had just gotten into town the previous night, but she needed the time to be alone and think before greeting her family. The transfer was likely a blessing in disguise because she had let herself get far too detached and distant from her family, but right now all she could think about was how hard it would be to reacclimate herself to them. There weren't too many people in her family who really understood and accepted her impassive nature. To avoid a million questions about her mental health and whatnot she practically had to put on another personality sometimes.

She relished the quiet of her usual morning runs and knew that she wouldn't get many more like it for awhile. Everyone from her father and mother to her sister and possibly an uncle or cousin or two would want to run with her sometime for the foreseeable future. She wished that Devon were in town because he would be willing to run with her without talking. But she didn't even know if he was in the country at the moment.

She let her mind wander and begin to analyze the woman who had just come around the turn in the path ahead pushing a stroller. The woman had on decent clothes common for a workout like a walk through a park. They wouldn't stand out except that the price she probably paid for them was nothing in comparison to what the stylish stroller must have cost. It was such a mismatch that she bet the woman was a live-in nanny. Live-in because it wasn't as likely that someone who didn't live in the house would be up at such an ungodly hour to take the child for a walk. And, as she approached the two, a slight darkness under the woman's eyes became evident and she would wager that this woman was the one getting up in the middle of the night to deal with the infant.

She pondered what life would have been like with a live-in nanny. She doubted it would have made much difference for her actually. Ever since she was eleven she hadn't really let anyone get too close, even her parents, so a nanny wouldn't have had a chance with her. But it probably would have meant less time being shuffled around the various aunts and uncles which would have been too bad. The adults in their family shared the baby-sitting duties whenever the need arose and those times spent with her siblings and cousins were some of the best she ever had. Even if that had led to the ridiculous labels they had given each other.

She winced as she thought about that. She wondered how long it would take for that information to get around the office. It was likely the ADIC knew about her connections to the NYPD. It was even possible that was part of the reason she had been given a team leadership position in such a high profile field office, though she hoped that wasn't the only reason for the promotion. But the childhood labels that had fueled their collective imaginations were something that really didn't need to make the rounds of the office. Her new job was going to be hard eno-

"CRACK!"

She was up against a tree with her sidearm in hand before her mind even consciously recognized that the sound she had just heard was a gunshot. She carefully released the fanny pack around her waist in which she had previously been carrying her weapon. It was a useful way to conceal her sidearm so that others wouldn't be worried or afraid at the sight of it, but it would only hamper her movements now. Lowering it to the ground, listening for further sounds, she glanced back down the path from the direction she had come and saw that the nanny hadn't noticed the sound and was still calmly walking. As long as she was heading away from the gunfire it didn't really matter.

She moved through the trees lining the path and went around the corner, towards where the shot had come from. It felt like forever to reach the area without being seen, but in reality was likely less than thirty seconds. Finally she was able to see two figures in the slight clearing next to the path in this area. One was prone on the ground and likely dead considering the lack of movement while the second figure was rifling through his pockets. He had stupidly put his gun on the ground, so she figured this was as good a time as any to make her presence known.

"FBI! Freeze!" Her voice boomed out and had the desired effect of startling the suspect, but unfortunately not the desired effect of scaring him into not reaching for his gun. She didn't even flinch as he swung the weapon and shot high, obviously expecting her to be standing instead of kneeling like she was. As she felt bark flying over her from where his bullet had hit, she squeezed her trigger three times in quick succession. He got one more shot off as he fell that went wildly to her left. She knew he was dead because she was pretty sure at least two of her shots had hit the bulls-eye, direct hits to his heart, but she approached cautiously anyway out of training.

When she was close enough she kicked the man's weapon from his hand and knelt to check for a pulse that was long gone. Knowing it was pointless, she still tried the neck of the other man as well. For now her mind catalogued the apparent young age of the two men and filed it away for later thought. It wouldn't do to ruminate on the sad loss of young lives at this point. Right now she needed to call in the authorities, despite the headache that would bring on multiple levels. What a way to start a new job.

When she realized she had left her cell in her fanny pack she cursed quietly to herself. She was contemplating whether to go for it or to just wait for the response sure to be headed this way already when she heard rustling in the bushes to her left. She turned quickly but was too late. Before she could even call out her credentials to whoever was there, another gunshot rang out in the early morning. She felt pain race through her side but still returned fire, kneeling to present a smaller profile. From the yell it sounded like she had hit him somewhere and apparently he decided it was better to live to fight another day as he quickly retreated back into the vegetation.

She tried to rise to follow him, but was overcome with dizziness. She looked down to her left side where her t-shirt was already covered in blood. Being shot the last time hadn't hurt quite as much or been this bloody, but that had only been a graze and this was obviously worse. Her last thought before blacking out was an irrational one. She hoped her family wouldn't be too annoyed about not knowing about the previous injury when they read her autopsy report.

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JD jogged through the park to where the reports indicated shots had been fired. He really shouldn't have responded to the call having just gotten off a long shift, but he had been close by when the call went out and couldn't help it. The perp was likely long gone and he wouldn't be needed very long anyway.

As he cautiously approached the clearing he spotted two uniformed cops on the other side. He indicated his badge where he had hung it on his jacket pocket for easy identification in just such a situation and they nodded to indicate they recognized him as a friendly. The three of them slowly approached the bodies on the grass. One of the cops called out an "NYPD!" warning but none of them really expected any answer. As they checked the two kids, he put two fingers to the woman's neck. To his surprise there was a pulse.

"Radio for a bus! We've got one alive here!" He quickly moved her weapon away and took off his jacket to use it as a way to staunch the flow of blood from her wound. A moan broke past her lips as he pressed against her side. "Ma'am? Can you open your eyes for me?" He smiled when she did as he asked and he saw the striking blue of her irises. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware that he didn't know yet whether she was a bad guy or not, but he ignored that thought.

"What's your name, ma'am?" He shifted slightly to get better situated.

"Special…Special Agent…" She was having trouble getting even that out, but he caught the gist.

"You're FBI?" At her slight nod he turned his head towards one of the uniforms. "We've got a Fed here! Where's that bus?" After being assured that the ambulance would be there shortly, he turned back to the woman on the ground. He realized now why he had subconsciously decided she wasn't a bad guy. The weapon he had taken from her hand was standard issue for federal agents.

"Okay, agent, stay with me. We've got help on the way. What's your name?" He tried not to let show how worried he was about the amount of blood that was still coming out of her.

"Ell…Ell Me…Mes…" Talking was getting harder and harder through the pain and the haziness from blood loss.

"Okay, Elle, my name's John Deveraux, but everyone calls me JD." His voice and smile tried to be reassuring. "Just relax, paramedics should be here any second."

"Hisp…anic…male…" She closed her eyes for a moment.

"Don't try to talk for now, we can get your statement later." Part of him was amused when her eyes snapped back open to glare at him defiantly. The rest of him admired her for her resiliency.

"Red…shirt…black jacket…winged him…"

It finally dawned on him what she was saying. While one of the dead men behind him was Hispanic, he wasn't wearing a red shirt or a jacket at all. "There was a third guy? And you shot him, but he ran away?"

She nodded in relief at his understanding. "About…5'10''…"

Deveraux turned again to the uniform near him and relayed the details. "And get all these new people started on setting up a perimeter. If she hit him, he probably left a trail of blood. We can follow it, but we don't want to ruin the evidence either." Many people had started entering the clearing and he was relieved to see among them some paramedics who just drove their ambulance through the park right to the scene and were now quickly getting out the stretcher and their other necessary supplies.

He looked back down to the woman who seemed to be growing paler by the second. "Elle? The EMTs are here now. You're going to be fine and we'll get the guy who shot you." She barely responded before he had to step back and let the paramedics do their job. They didn't waste much time deciding she needed to get to the hospital as fast as possible and basically did a scoop and run. JD really wanted to ride with them, but figured it was best to stay here and talk to whoever showed up to handle the case. It would probably be someone high up eventually. A shoot out like this in Central Park would have been big news regardless, but the injured FBI agent would add a whole new spin that would have the reporters salivating and the detectives assigned to the case popping aspirin for quite some time.

He tried to wipe off his hands on whatever small part of his jacket that wasn't already covered in blood as his partner jogged up. "Scagnetti, late as usual," he tried to joke. In reality the man was a great partner and always there when it counted, but he was notoriously bad at making it to departmental meetings on time and was the butt of many a joke because of it.

The older man let the comment slide. "You okay, JD? What happened? I heard over the radio the FBI was involved?"

For the first time JD allowed himself to think through everything he had seen and tried to make a guess at what had probably happened. "It wasn't anything official, she looked to be in jogging clothes, probably just exercising like anyone else. She probably heard one or more gunshots being exchanged between these two," he gestured to the dead bodies, "and approached to check things out. I'm not sure about much else except that she said there was a third guy that she winged. I'm guessing he's the one who wounded her. I told the uniforms to find the blood trail and both follow it and preserve it for the CSIs."

"Good work." John Scagnetti, Jr. did his best not to let on how winded he was after running through the park. He wasn't exactly what you would call in the best of shape. He usually relied on his younger and more athletic partner to chase any runners. "Did you get a name on the FBI agent?"

"All she could get out was her first name, Elle." He was surprised at the reaction that got. "What? You know her?"

"I better not or the size of this shit storm will increase tenfold." They turned as someone called out to them.

"Detectives? I found this by a tree down the path. I think it may belong to the FBI agent." The uniform cop who looked like he had been out of the academy about two weeks held out a black fanny pack.

Scagnetti took the object. JD would have reached for it, but it wouldn't have been a good idea to get blood all over the item. He knew things weren't good by the quiet "fuck" the other man let out when he pulled out a wallet with an ID and badge. "What? Does it belong to the agent?"

"Yeah. And this just went way above our paygrades." He used his handkerchief to hand the badge over so that JD could hold it without getting blood on it. As his partner pulled out his phone to make a call, JD looked down and read the name on the ID. _Special Agent Daniella Messer_.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: All notes, thanks and disclaimers still apply, so I'll just step out of your way and let you read. :)

* * *

Deveraux didn't know if he had ever been this tired before. He was currently canvassing the neighborhood that the blood trail had led to and was growing more and more annoyed by the lack of progress and the looks he seemed to be getting from the other cops and detectives asking similar questions to other people on the street. The lack of progress was a result of it being a busy thoroughfare where you had to be pretty damn noticeable to attract any kind of attention. The looks probably had something to do with the reaction Scagnetti had had to the FBI agent's name, but JD hadn't had time to stick around for an explanation. Not long after the ID and badge were found, the wounded suspect's trail was located and he joined the pursuit.

Apparently they were dealing with at least a halfway smart guy because he knew enough to walk calmly down the street so as not to attract attention. Sprinting away from the park could have caught the eye of someone who would remember it later. The dogs brought on the scene had lost the scent a few blocks away from where it originated and they all assumed he had either caught a cab or gotten into a getaway car he had parked ahead of time. So, now they were trying to find someone who saw a guy matching the description Agent Messer had given and remembered what kind of vehicle he had left in.

Canvassing was one of the worst of the necessary parts of the job. It probably didn't help that right now he wasn't exactly portraying an intimidating figure for those reluctant to talk or a reassuring one for those worried about what had happened. Now that the adrenaline had long since faded, his earlier fatigue was catching up to him with a vengeance. As he knocked on the next door he decided this would be his last before he checked in at the precinct, probably sitting through several rounds of questions, and then went to the hospital to see how the agent was doing before he finally crashed at home.

The door opened a crack, the security chain still attached. "Yes?" a mousy woman asked timidly.

"Hello ma'am, my name is Detective Deveraux, NYPD." He held up his badge so she could see it easily. "There was an incident this morning and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions…" Almost before he finished the sentence, the door was slammed in his face, followed quickly by a muffled shout of surprise from the woman as someone yelled at her and then a loud crash. JD whistled to get the attention of other cops on the street as he withdrew his weapon and prepared to kick in the door. The day just kept getting better and better.

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Mac Taylor moved purposefully through the ER doors. Most of the people who worked in the hospital recognized him, but even those who didn't wouldn't have made the mistake of stopping him from entering through a door usually reserved for paramedics and their patients. He approached the nurse on duty at the front desk and flashed his credentials. "Where can I find Detective Deveraux?" After getting the desired information he headed down the hallway towards the indicated examination room. Years of coming here to process and talk to victims had facilitated his memorization of the emergency room's layout so he didn't need an escort.

"It's just a bloody nose and a bruise, Doctor," Mac heard through the curtain.

"You might have cracked a rib, Detective. An X-ray wouldn't hurt." Mac recognized the voice as that of Dr. Gibson. Before the argument could get any further, Mac rapped his knuckles against the wall next to the curtain.

"Can I come in?" The curtain was pulled back to reveal the good doctor and another man attempting to put his shirt back on. Mac quickly took stock of the younger man. His 6'2'' build and sandy blond hair matched the file Mac had read on the way over. But the rundown man in front of him didn't match the file's picture of a smiling and fresh faced Detective John Deveraux very well. But that was to be expected considering he had reportedly worked an extra shift to try and solve a double homicide and had only left on the orders of his CO before responding to the incident in Central Park.

"Taylor," the Doctor greeted him. "I'm guessing you won't help me in persuading the Detective here to have an X-ray."

Mac smirked wryly at the other man. It was an age old struggle between doctors and police officers and the like who didn't want any extra fussing. "You might as well let it go, Doc. Even if you found out he had a cracked or broken rib there wouldn't be much you could do for him besides what you were going to have him do anyway."

The doctor sighed and rolled his eyes. "Sometimes I wonder why I even try."

"Because you're good at what you do, Harry." Mac and Gibson shared a short laugh before the doctor left to get Detective Deveraux's discharge papers and instructions on how to handle his side in case a rib really was cracked.

"Thanks for that, sir." Mac finally turned to the young man he had come to see. "I wouldn't have even come in the first place, but my sergeant insisted on it."

"As he should have. It at least made it easier for me to track you down," Mac told him.

Deveraux visibly stiffened as he paused in tucking his shirt back into his pants. "You've been looking for me, sir?" He buckled up before folding his arms over his chest. "Do we need to do this today, sir? I wasn't involved in the incident itself, just the aftermath, and I'm pretty beat. I promise I'll report wherever you need me first thing tomorrow morning. Or later today even as long as I can get a few hours of sleep."

Mac calmly raised an eyebrow. He knew from the file that this guy was relatively new, but he thought he would at least be recognized. Apparently it was still possible for people to join the NYPD before hearing about him and his circle. "Do I look like IAB to you?" That mistaken assumption was the only reason the other man would be getting defensive.

"Uh…no? Sir?" Deveraux looked confused. Mac took pity on him. The hard knock to the head he had received in addition to the bruised ribs while subduing the abusive husband he encountered during the canvassing probably hadn't helped his sleep-deprived state.

"Bureau Chief Mac Taylor, Chief of Detectives," he introduced himself, holding up his credentials. Now there was recognition in the other man's eyes. "I'm not here to get on your case or ask you a million questions when you're obviously dead on your feet. I actually came to personally thank you and let you know you have my support whenever you need it." He held out his card and the other man took it on reflex.

"Sir? As much as I appreciate the thanks, I'm confused as to why you looked for me to say it personally, at least this quickly."

Mac couldn't help but smirk. This poor kid had stumbled into something bigger than he could comprehend at the moment. "Follow me upstairs to check on Agent Messer and I'll explain some things, Deveraux."

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JD hadn't actually gotten much information on the way to the surgical floor. After signing his discharge papers he had followed Chief Taylor to the elevator where they were accosted by a few reporters who had somehow found out the Chief was in the ER. A couple of uniforms kept them from getting on the elevator as well, but there were still a few doctors and nurses inside that kept Taylor from talking freely.

When they exited, Taylor motioned down the hallway where a couple of uniforms guarded the doors. "I want to check in at the desk and see who else is here. Why don't you head down to Ella's room and see if she's awake yet?" More confused by the minute, JD just nodded and did as suggested. He really needed sleep. At this point he was starting to doubt his ability to remember his own name.

The cops must have been warned of his coming ahead of time somehow because they just nodded and let him in. Inside he found Agent Messer lying on a hospital bed covered in a blanket with various wires attached to her arms. He approached and was glad to see that her coloring was better and that she was breathing okay on her own. Taylor had been able to tell him on the way up that she had made it through surgery okay, though it had been dicey for awhile due to the blood loss. Now they were just waiting for her to wake up from the anesthesia.

He was still standing next to her bed when the door opened and two men entered, one who looked very solid and the other slightly shorter but almost just as well built if in a slightly wiry way. They looked enough alike to be related and seemed to be of the same opinion that he, JD, should not be there.

"Son of a…" Before the shorter man had finished his epithet or JD could explain who he was, the taller man had grabbed Deveraux by the arm and shoved him against the wall opposite the foot of the bed. Before JD could even blink he was in the classic subduing position with one of his arms being twisted behind his back and the man's other arm behind his neck. Slamming against walls didn't feel great to bruised ribs, but at least he hit the wall mostly on his left side and his previous injury was on the right. Now if he could just get the guy to back off and let him breathe.

"I'm-" Apparently he wasn't allowed to talk as additional pressure was put on him from behind.

"You picked the wrong family to mess with," the bigger man hissed in his ear. Well, at the very least, if he got pulverized there was help close by.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" JD would have turned towards Taylor's voice if he had the liberty to move his head.

"This idiot was messing with Ella," claimed the shorter man who JD couldn't see.

"That 'idiot' is the man who saved your sister's life, Dominic, and if Devon doesn't let him go in the next two seconds I'll kick _both_ your asses!" Evidently despite his age, Mac's threat wasn't taken lightly and JD was let go immediately. He put a hand to his side and bent over coughing.

Taylor came over to put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay, Deveraux? Do we need to get a doctor in here?"

"No, I'm fine, sir." He stood back up. "If you'd excuse me, now that I've seen that Agent Messer is doing okay, I'd really like to head home."

The older man looked like he might argue, but then, thankfully, decided against it. "I suppose you deserve to go home and get some sleep. I'll have one of the officers outside drive you home."

"That's really not necessary, sir."

"Oh, I think it is. And while I'm sorry about what just happened, I will make it an order if I have to."

It just wasn't worth the fight and JD knew he probably should accept anyway. With his luck right now he'd likely fall asleep on the subway and get mugged. "I'd appreciate that ride, sir." Chief Taylor ushered him out to the hallway where he assigned one of the uniforms to chauffer him and then finally, at long last, JD was headed home. Sleep never sounded so good.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: ** I want to quickly address something that has come up in the reviews (which, by the way, I am reading and appreciating and will reply to whenever they get sent to me!) re: the age of the _CSI:NY_ characters. If an age isn't specified in a show I just go by how old I think the character is, not by the actual age of the actors playing the characters. So, for instance, even though Gary Sinise is actually in his fifties, I always tend to think Mac looks younger, like mid to late forties, so in my story he's in his mid to late seventies. (I'm being purposely vague about his age.) Nowadays that would probably be past retirement age for his job, but since it's the future I'm just going to go with the idea that this is one of the kinds of things I can fudge a little. :)

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Bickering was the first thing Ell heard when she became aware of her surroundings. 

"You might as well go and get some sleep, Jack. She probably won't wake up until tomorrow anyway and you know these chairs would be murder on your back."

"I'm not leaving if you're not, Ana. Even if I wanted to, your parents would probably kick my ass if I left you alone. Not to mention the rest of the clan. They only left because we assured them that we would _both_ stay to watch over her."

Ell could almost hear her sister roll her eyes. "He's got a point," she rasped, finally managing to crack open her eyes. Quickly her vision was filled with the sight of her sister. Feeling as off as she did from the meds she was on, it was even weirder to see her own face reflected back at her than it usually was.

"Ella! Thank God." Ana blinked rapidly to try and hold back her tears as she squeezed her sister's hand. Whatever emotions Ell lacked, her sister picked up the slack for.

"Hey, kid." Another face came into view and Ell smiled at her sister's fiancé. "You had us scared there for a bit."

"I guess it was my turn." The others chuckled. It was a family joke that they all took turns on being the one in trouble in some way, shape or form. "What's a girl got to do to get a drink of water around here?" She sipped eagerly from the cup her sister held for her while Jack supported her head. Finally she lay back again, already annoyed at how such a small task could wipe her out so much, but pushed that feeling back for the time being. "So, how bad is it?"

"Physically or metaphorically?" Ana grinned unrepentantly at the glare Ell shot her way. "Physically you got lucky. The bullet didn't hit anything vital and they were able to get it out without too much trouble. You lost a _lot_ of blood…" Ana had to pause a second to regain her composure before continuing. "But the doctors think you'll make a full recovery after some physical therapy." She squeezed Ell's hand again. "As for everything else…the guy who shot you is still on the run, but obviously everyone is on it, NYPD, FBI, ATF, the whole alphabet."

Ell smirked. "Did you get any sudden pains in your side early this morning?" No matter how many times they told people they were fraternal twins, people still thought they were identical because of how much alike they looked and some even expected them to be virtual voodoo dolls for one another. One boy in elementary school had actually pinched Ana once to see if Ell would feel it too. She obviously didn't, but she made sure that boy didn't make that mistake again. She still remembered her dad trying not to laugh when she told him why she punched the kid in the stomach.

Ana smirked back. "Yeah, but only because when Uncle Don called to tell us what had happened, Jack freaked out and jabbed me in the side reaching for the phone."

"I did not 'freak out.' I merely reacted with my well honed skills to quickly answer what turned out to be a very important call." Jack tried but couldn't stay serious as the two women across from him cracked up laughing, Ell protesting when her laughter caused pain in her side.

"Hey, you okay there?" Ell tried to recover to take the frightened look out of her sister's eyes. _Damn, I've caused that look too many times._

"I'm fine," she assured them, her eyes drooping. "I don't think I'm going to last much longer though."

"That's fine, sis. Get some more sleep. I'm sure Mom and Dad will be here when you wake up next time." She didn't even finish talking before Ell was fast asleep. Ana looked up at her fiancé. "Whew."

Jack quirked an eyebrow. "What?"

Ana grinned at him. "I'm just glad we're not the ones that have to tell her what Dom and Devon did to the guy who saved her life."

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"_What_?" JD mumbled angrily into his phone. There was no way someone should be calling him yet.

"Rise and shine, kid. Your presence has been requested." Scagnetti's voice was not one he wanted to hear.

"It's only…" JD grabbed his clock and turned it towards him, "6 a.m., John, and on a Sunday I might add, why in the _hell_ are you calling me?"

"You're lucky you got that long. Mac had to talk down about a dozen different people and convince them that you needed your beauty sleep."

JD heard muffled knocking coming from the direction of his front door. "Hold on a sec, someone's at my door."

"That would be me, moron. Open up." JD rolled his eyes and shut his phone before shuffling to let his partner in. He couldn't help but let out a huge yawn as he rubbed the back of his head.

"What's up?" he asked as he headed to his kitchen area for some coffee, expecting Scagnetti to shut the front door and follow.

"You really don't know, do you?" Scagnetti shook his head sadly at the annoyed glare JD sent his way. "Carson was more of an idiot than I thought. How did he not let you in on such important stuff?" When Deveraux had transferred from Chicago eight months previously he had originally been paired with Detective Kyle Frederick Carson a.k.a. KFC or Kentucky Fried Chicken. The man probably single-handedly created the stereotype about donut-eating cops. JD hadn't been in New York three months before Carson was finally forced into retirement due to his poor health. Fortunately for JD, Scagnetti's last partner had just transferred to Narcotics and so they were paired up and the rest, as they say, was history.

"And what important piece of gossip have I been left out of now?" JD couldn't contain his sarcasm. He hated gossip of any kind due to some unfortunate encounters with it growing up, so he rarely let his partner tell him anything about who stabbed who in the back or who was sleeping with whom, etc. etc.

"This isn't gossip, man, this is legend. You saved NYPD royalty."

JD grinned. "Royalty? I thought you hated that sort of thing, John." Deveraux had spent several years in England as a kid and you could even hear just a hint of a British accent in his voice sometimes, usually when he was really ticked off, though it was a toss up as to whether the British or Chicago part of him would come out. Once Scagnetti had found that out about him on one of their stakeouts he had spent a lot of their time together needling him about different things involving England and its quirks.

"The birth right crap, yeah, but this isn't that. This is way cooler." Scagnetti almost sounded like a little kid which was weird coming from the forty something married father of two.

Deciding to play along for the moment, JD calmly made himself a bowl of cereal and asked, "So, who did I save? A princess?"

"A Duchess, actually." John laughed at the reaction his partner had. "Okay, maybe I should back up and explain a little history here." He glanced down at his watch. "But we need to do that on the way. People really are expecting you down at One Police Plaza."

JD almost choked on his Frosted Mini-Wheats. "One Police Plaza? Why the hell do I need to go there? It's not like I'll be running the case."

Scagnetti rolled his eyes. "Stop asking questions, kid, and just get moving and I'll explain on the way." Ten minutes later after JD hastily finished his bowl of cereal, had a quick shower and an even quicker shave, got dressed, and poured some coffee into a travel mug, they were headed out the door. He was immediately confused as Scagnetti headed left. "Uh, John, the elevator is this way," he said, pointing to his right.

The older man snorted. "Yeah, if I want to get run over by eager beaver reporters. My car is out back in the alley." JD didn't ask because he figured he didn't want to know.

When they were finally on their way and stuck in the usual morning traffic, Scagnetti started giving the explanation JD had been needing for the past 24 hours. "So, where to begin? Okay, long, long ago in a land far away- Hey!" He rubbed his arm where JD had slugged him. "What was that for?"

"I think you read too many bedtime stories to your kids when they were little, John."

"Fine, fine." Scagnetti came to a stop at a red light. "Okay, so about thirty years ago the crime lab was run by Mac Taylor."

"Chief Taylor? The guy I met yesterday?"

"The very one. He was there a long time before moving up in the world, but the lab was at its best when he was in charge. Not that it isn't good now, but I'm getting ahead of myself. Anyway, so, there were a few CSIs at that time who became like family they were so close and Mac was kind of the dad of the group. Two of them, Danny Messer and Lindsay Monroe, even got married."

"Wait, don't I know a Danny Messer? Hasn't he worked some of our crime scenes?"

"Now who's getting ahead?" Scagnetti raised an eyebrow before moving the car through the intersection when the light turned green and joining the congestion on the other side. "Anyway, so the others were Sheldon Hawkes, formerly and futurely of the ME's office, and Don Flack, a homicide detective like us who had been good friends with Messer for years." JD didn't even protest his partner making up words. "So, like I said, Danny Messer and Lindsay Monroe got married and they eventually had four kids, three of whom you met yesterday."

Deveraux rubbed his still sore side. "Two of whom I wouldn't mind never meeting again, thanks."

"Hey, go easy on them. They had both gotten on a plane not knowing if their sister was alive, had just gotten off and only got information saying she was alive and through surgery but not much else, and the first thing they find upon getting to the hospital is some stranger standing over their injured sister's bed. I think you would have reacted a little strongly, too."

JD sipped more of his coffee. "I guess. I'll probably be able to forgive easier once my ribs stop hurting." Or his shoulder for that matter. It wasn't feeling all that great either after his arm was wrenched behind him.

"You're lucky Devon didn't break your arm. Being a Navy SEAL, he could probably kill you a dozen different ways." The older man laughed when his younger partner practically spit out his coffee. "I'm actually surprised you didn't recognize Dominic considering your baseball affiliation," he said, indicating the Cubs logo on the other man's travel mug. "You must have taken a real hit to the head."

JD's eyes went wide. "Whoa, whoa, Dominic Messer? _The_ Dominic Messer? Shortstop for the Chicago Cubs? _That_ Dominic Messer?"

"The very one. I bet he'll even give you an autograph." Scagnetti just grinned at the glare sent his way. "So, anyway, there's Dominic, then Ella and her twin sister Ana, and finally Devon about eight years after the twins. Don Flack had a daughter named Kaile and Doc Hawkes has three with his wife Contessa- Shayna, Will and Carla. Though Devon and Shayna were toddlers when the royal thing started and the last two weren't around yet at all."

"And how exactly does a 'royal thing' start?" The sarcasm in the question was roundly ignored.

"When a few smart kids let their imaginations run rampant. So it's the annual NYPD picnic in Central Park and I'm there with my family since my dad was a homicide detective. I was hanging out with a couple other guys my age trying to figure out how to approach some of the good looking girls in the area without ticking off their armed fathers when the three older Messer kids and Kaile Flack come over and try to hang out with us. Of course, we were too cool for little kids, so we ignored them until Kaile poked me with a stick and told me I was being an ass. Even at twelve she had an attitude. Anyway, I grabbed the stick and broke it in two and suggested she take her ladies in waiting, including Dominic, and go find someone else to bug. Evidently the 'ladies in waiting' comment sparked their imagination, because a little later when I was sitting down on my family's blanket to eat I could hear them talking to one another about 'Prince' this and 'Duke' that." Scagnetti swore as he almost hit a bicycle messenger.

"Don't say a word," he warned. Bike messengers were a long standing annoyance for him. "Anyway, where was I? Right, the picnic. So, being the nosy college kid that I am, I listen in. Turns out the twins had apparently read some books featuring royalty or some such thing and were all into the lingo. They unanimously decided Mac was the King of their little extended family. They bickered about who got to be Prince, but eventually decided that since by then Mac had moved up to One Police Plaza and taken Don with him as his second in command, Flack should be Prince. That of course made Kaile the Princess. Since there were no Hawkes kids around to argue, they agreed that Danny and Lindsay would be the Archduke and Archduchess with each of their kids being little Dukes and Duchesses. And finally, Hawkes was proclaimed Count with his wife as Countess, which I always thought went well with Contessa. The kids even went so far as to proclaim themselves the House of New York. And so NYPD royalty was born."

JD raised an eyebrow. "How did a thing imagined by a bunch of kids end up being such a big deal?"

Scagnetti grinned. "I may have told my friends about what I overheard. We then may have told our parents. Who then may have spread it around their respective precincts." He chuckled as he pulled into the parking garage that serviced the NYPD HQ. "Before the adults involved could squash it, the titles had been passed around and since their collective reputations were pretty legendary already, they stuck. Though of course not many people will call Mac Taylor 'King' to his face."

JD contemplated all he had just learned as they finally got out of the car. "Let me guess, the press knows about these titles."

Scagnetti smiled. "Now you're catching on. You should see some of the headlines this morning. 'Duchess of New York saved by Detective' was one of my favorites," he teased, accompanying the quote with the appropriate broad hand gestures.

Deveraux rubbed the back of his neck. "And here I was hoping for a better day today."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** All thanks/disclaimers/whatnot still apply. Enjoy!

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"Where the hell are they?" 

Mac sighed as he watched Don Flack check his watch for what had to be the tenth time in the last two minutes. "You know Scagnetti, Flack, he never gets anywhere on time. I told him the meeting started a half hour before it actually did, but he'll probably still be late."

"Why exactly did we let him pick up Deveraux then?"

"Because Scagnetti is his partner. After the day he had yesterday I thought he deserved getting picked up by somebody he knows. Besides, John can give him the rundown on what he's stumbled into since apparently he doesn't know."

"And of course Scagnetti is giving him the objective, non-colorful version," Flack muttered. "I still wish that I had kicked his ass for getting me called the 'Prince of New York.' I don't get paid well enough to be a Prince of anything."

Mac didn't bother replying. Don had ranted about their "royal" titles many times over the past two decades. It did nothing to remind him that the titles originally came from the kids, Don's daughter chief among them. But then, Kaile could do no wrong in her father's eyes. That was probably a product of Don having to raise her alone, but she had turned out all right. And over the years she had been forced to reap what she sowed more than the other kids since she was the only one who chose to follow the parents into the NYPD.

Don finally relaxed a little and leaned against the wall. They were standing just outside the conference room they would be entering as soon as the honored guest arrived. "Did Ella find out about what the guys did in her room yesterday?"

Mac smirked. "I don't think so. Ana called me this morning to say that Ella had woken up but not long enough for Ana to tell her, for which I think Ana is grateful. Big tough ATF agent and she doesn't want to be the one to tell her own twin." Ana, along with her fiancé, was a Special Agent in the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, better known as ATF.

"You're the big, bad Chief of Ds, would you want to tell her?" They were joking, but not completely. Ella had long since been recognized inside the family as mentally and in some ways physically the toughest among them, ex-Marines and current SEALs notwithstanding. Mac often wondered if she would have turned out that way if not for what had happened when she was eleven. To a certain degree she might have since she had always been a more reserved child than anyone else in the family, but that day probably pushed her further down that continuum.

Over Flack's shoulder Mac caught sight of the men they had been waiting for. "They're here." Flack straightened and turned so they were both facing the approaching detectives.

"Chief, Don," Scagnetti greeted. Though Don was an Assistant Chief in his own right, Scagnetti knew him from too far back to call him by his title when no one else was around. His father had worked with both Don Flack, Sr. and his son and John Scagnetti, Jr. had grown up sort of around the man who was a couple decades older than him.

"It is a continual wonder to me, Scags, how you've remained married all these years with your inability to tell time. Your wife is a saint." Mac knew Don took pleasure in seeing Deveraux's eyes widen at the nickname Kaile had given Scagnetti, Jr. years ago. Nobody outside of the family ever called the detective by that nickname, but Mac wagered that wouldn't necessarily be the case anymore.

"Hey, I know we're really late, but there was a lot of traffic and I figured we weren't really necessary for this shindig anyway. We're just mere peasants, your highness." Mac figured he should step in before this escalated. These grown men had the tendency to act like kids around each other with their (mostly) good-natured bickering sometimes. At least Danny wasn't here or it would be even worse.

"Actually, you're only about five minutes late, John." Mac just smirked as the other man rolled his eyes at the realization that Mac had deliberately given him the wrong time. "But we should probably get in there. We wouldn't want to keep the Councilwoman waiting any longer."

As he turned, Mac could hear Deveraux whispering to his partner. "Councilwoman? Are we playing politics already?"

Scagnetti briefly chuckled. "Politics are played all day, everyday, JD. But no, I'm betting Mac is referring to Contessa Hawkes. Didn't I mention she's on the City Council?" Mac could guess from the groan that Deveraux did in fact not know that. He briefly wondered how much Scagnetti had had the chance to tell his partner, but couldn't contemplate that thought for long as he and Don preceded the other two into the room where a large group had assembled consisting of people from the NYPD and FBI as well as whoever else had managed to make their way in. And, of course, one Councilwoman.

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"You know that I'm going to kick your ass someday for all the crap you've been putting me through, right?" JD was not a happy man. He rummaged through their unmarked car's glove compartment for the aspirin they always kept in there. Finally finding the bottle, he shook some out, briefly considered taking more than the recommended dose, then decided against it and put all but two back into the bottle. He opened his water bottle, popped the pills into his mouth, then used the water to wash them down.

"What are you whining about now?" Scagnetti didn't take his eyes off the street, carefully scanning everything in sight.

"I've got a bloody headache from the flashbulbs of those stupid photographers. I would have appreciated a heads up on the fact that I was about to become blinded." Hearing himself use the typical British epithet, JD worked to reign himself in. It wouldn't do to get worked up since they didn't know how long they would be stuck in the car.

He hadn't had any time after the meeting at One Police Plaza that morning to badger Scagnetti. Unbeknownst to JD, the "meeting" turned out to be more of a press conference. Various members of several agencies gave statements about how they were all working hard on solving the Central Park incident as quickly as possible, etc. etc. Unfortunately, that wasn't where it all ended. The next thing JD knew, he was shaking the hand of everyone in the room and getting his picture taken with most of them. And while he gave the Councilwoman the benefit of the doubt that her gratitude was genuine, he was sure that the papers were going to love running the picture of her giving him a tight hug.

"Hey, man, I didn't know the press would be there. I really did think it was just a meeting of the big honchos to squabble over jurisdiction." He grinned unrepentantly as his eyes followed a younger man down the street. "Not that I'm surprised they were there. The press loves the NYPD royalty angle and Tessa in particular, so they would have been hounding her to be allowed to be at the meeting."

JD snorted. "Politics never sleeps, does it?"

"Hey," Scagnetti said, his tone suddenly different as he shot a serious look at his younger partner before quickly returning his attention to the street they were watching, "don't put this on Tessa. Yeah, she might have let the press in, but she probably had good reasons for it. The more exposure the case gets, the more likely someone recognizes the description of the perp, or the gang he's in decides that he's too big a liability because of the publicity and they turn him over to us one way or another, or the guy himself comes in not wanting his gang to kill him to shut him up."

Deveraux was not in the mood. He wanted to be ticked off and he wanted his partner to back him up. "They could have press coverage without involving me. My job sometimes depends on my relative anonymity. How can I go into a bar now to talk to an informant if everyone in there knows I'm a cop?"

Scagnetti didn't comment because JD had a point. Already the coverage had caused them some headaches. Mac and Don had given them a ride to their precinct where they had to talk to their supervisor. Despite their protests, they had been put exclusively on the "Royal" case as it was becoming known as. Apparently, it looked good if the detective who saved the FBI agent's life was involved in the case. Anything else they had was shuffled off to other detectives if it was a hot case or pushed to the side if it was relatively cold. It bugged them to no end because they had developed relationships with the family members of victims, had gut feelings about where to go with cases, and all of that would be lost on the new detectives who would essentially be starting from scratch in those areas.

Even better was getting a rundown on all the extra precautions they would need to take to make sure anyone they arrested wouldn't be able to get off on a technicality. It turned out that Scagnetti had left out some important details in his rundown of the Taylor/Messer/Flack/Hawkes history besides the fact that there was a Councilwoman in the family. They weren't going to be able to discuss much of what went on with a whole host of people up to and including the head of the crime lab and the Chief Medical Examiner. It just so happened that Lindsay Messer née Monroe had taken over for Mac Taylor when he moved up and that Sheldon Hawkes had eventually moved back to the M.E.'s office, this time as the head honcho. Add in Danny Messer who worked at the lab and Kaile Flack who was a detective in a different precinct and JD started feeling like he would have to keep a cheat sheet on him just to remember who he wasn't supposed to talk to about the case.

Eventually JD had convinced Scagnetti that they should be a little proactive. The M.E.'s office had let them know that the tattoo on the dead Hispanic male linked him to the Mexicali street gang. Luckily enough Scagnetti's former partner had had a criminal informant in that group and was willing to let them talk to the guy if they could find him. The CI almost always only gave them information about guys in other gangs, but it wouldn't hurt to try and shake him down for the Central Park incident. Like Scagnetti said, the gang might be anxious to get their now high profile member off their roster. Besides, JD had been about to go crazy with all the attention he was getting from everyone at the precinct and just needed to get out anyway.

"Is this guy ever going to show?" Scagnetti finally muttered. He was never the most patient one on stakeouts. JD decided to try and distract him and possibly find out more information at the same time.

"So, Scags," he started, ignoring the eye roll his partner sent his way at the use of the nickname, "was there ever a Queen?"

"What?" Scagnetti responded, but in that tone that said he had heard and understood the question but was avoiding answering it for some reason.

"This House of New York, did it ever have a Queen? Was Taylor ever married?"

Deveraux heard his partner blow out a slow breath. "Yeah, Mac was married another lifetime ago, but that was long before the royal thing started." He paused so long that JD almost started talking again, but eventually continued. "Look, I'm going to tell you about this just because I don't want you to stumble into something and mention the wrong thing to the wrong people, okay?"

JD tried not to show his surprise. His partner had been pretty light-hearted through this whole experience and he wondered at the change in the other man's demeanor. "Yeah, fine."

Scagnetti paused again as if choosing his words carefully. "There was a Queen at one point. Her name was Stella Bonasera. She worked in the lab at the same time as Mac, Danny, Lindsay and Sheldon." He paused and took a sip of his coffee. "She was killed about twenty years ago."

JD felt bad about how annoyed he had been at the family till now. "Man, I had no idea. I guess this whole thing has probably brought up a lot of bad memories for them."

"In more ways than one," Scagnetti said quietly. He didn't elaborate and JD didn't push. Not long after that they spotted the guy they were looking for and hopped out to have a chat with him.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** Just a quick thanks to those who have reviewed anonymously since I can't reply to those through e-mail. Every review is greatly appreciated. :)

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Ell slowly rose to consciousness. Before opening her eyes she gave herself a few moments to remember everything that had happened. The memory of the shooting came back fairly quickly thanks to the pain in her side. It was a good bet that her latest round of medication had worn off and she was going to be getting another round soon. 

The time between then and now was a bit fuzzier. She knew for sure that she had talked to her sister. And, just as Ana had promised, their parents had been there the second time Ell had woken. Uncle Sheldon was there as well to reassure her that she would be fine and up and around in no time.

That time she had faked falling back to sleep after giving them and some detective she didn't recognize an official statement about the shooting. She wasn't proud of it, but she couldn't take the looks of concern on the faces of her parents. It wasn't something they could help and they certainly didn't mean to cause any harm by it, but it did its damage anyway. She had been fighting flashbacks ever since, especially due to her father. His face was one of the first things she remembered seeing after that fateful incident twenty years ago. While his visage was one that had comforted her at the time, its concerned look was forever linked to that day for her. It was likely much of the reason why she usually refrained from telling her parents anything that could bring out those looks.

She had come up from the depths of slumber a few other times, but only for short periods and she couldn't remember who had been there or what they had said. From comments made that she could recall and the sunlight she could sense through her eyelids she figured it was Monday morning, the second day after the shooting. She wondered what the reaction would be if she refused any more pain medication, or at least nothing stronger than ibuprofen. She hated having her mind clouded and would put up with whatever pain was necessary to maintain a clear head.

She had put off opening her eyes long enough and finally lifted them slightly. Thankfully Kaile was the only one in the room. "Hey, K, playing hooky?"

The dark haired woman sitting in one of the room's plastic chairs perusing a file quickly looked up and smiled. "Hey, yourself. Not completely, I'm just taking a long lunch break so your brothers and sister could take your parents out to lunch." She got up to pour some water into a cup with a straw to offer to Ell. "I think your parents were going to refuse until your dad's stomach growled loud enough to be heard in Queens. They eventually left after Mac called and promised to meet them and give them an update on the case."

Ell lay back after taking a few sips to wet her throat. "Who's working the case?"

Kaile pulled her chair a little closer to the head of the bed and sat back down. "It's a crazy mess jurisdiction-wise since the initial crime was obviously NYPD's area, but the shooting of a federal officer falls to the FBI, but then of course you aren't just a fed, you're the daughter of two NYPD detectives. It probably would have taken longer to come to some kind of agreement, but Aunt Tessa stepped in." Kaile's eyes sparkled with mischief. "She kind of sandbagged the brass with an impromptu press conference and got them to agree to a joint investigation. Mackenzie is going to be coordinating the NYPD side of things and Zach Roberts, do you know him?" Ell shook her head in the negative. "He'll be coordinating the FBI side of things and the two will be working closely together. The ATF will help where they can, but since Ana and Jack are their only connection to the case they didn't have much leverage to get involved more than tangentially. This thing has blown sky high and just about every agency imaginable wants in on it, but they're keeping it as limited as possible for now."

Ell sighed. "Who knew taking a run in the park could cause such trouble?"

Her cousin smiled. "You should have listened to me all those times I tried to tell you running was insane." Kaile was not out of shape by any means, but she wasn't a big fan of running. She claimed she did enough of that chasing various perps around the city.

Ell smiled but refrained from laughing knowing the pain it would likely cause. "Are Mom and Dad and everyone causing the brass a lot of trouble?" She knew her family well. They would all be balking at having to stay removed from the case in any way, no matter that they knew why that was necessary.

"I don't think they've caused too much trouble yet, but that may change if we don't get any good leads soon. Speaking of leads, the only decent one we have so far was generated by your knight in shining armor." Ell's face quirked in obvious confusion. "The guy who saved you? Detective Deveraux?"

She vaguely recalled blonde hair and blue eyes, but not much more than that. "His first name is John, right?"

"Yep, that's him. Anyway, he's partnered up with Scags," that name was accompanied by an eye roll, "and they ran down the tattoo on one of the dead guys and they might have a lead on who the third guy was." She smirked. "Apparently getting his bruised ribs slammed into the wall by Devon didn't slow Deveraux down much."

Ell used all of her mental faculties to not let on that she was surprised by this information. "Yeah, I guess not." Inside her emotions were in turmoil and she couldn't stop the litany that began running through her mind: _Bruised ribs? Slammed into a wall? I've done it again, I've caused another good person to get hurt, that's all I do is get people hurt, God, why does this keep happening?_ Her voice betrayed nothing of what she was thinking. "It's impressive. Devon can do a lot of damage when he wants to."

Kaile was oblivious to the other woman's turmoil, though that was partially due to Ell's ability to keep her face under control and also to Kaile's predisposition to being able to read men better than women. It didn't have anything to do with how much she dated or anything like that. It was most likely a combination of being raised by a single father, spending most of her free time with Dominic while growing up since they were the same age, and choosing a profession that still gravitated towards feeling like a boy's club despite the way mentalities had changed over the years. "Yeah, he can. Don't worry, we haven't let up on Dominic and Devon for injuring the guy. This guy saves you, gets knocked around by some abusive husband while canvassing the neighborhood for the perp who shot you, then gets accosted by your idiot brothers. Oh, this will go down in family lore."

Ell's mind had shifted into planning mode, locking the freaked out eleven year old in the back for the time being. "I'm sure Ana is currently giving them plenty of grief right now. Speaking of Ana, did she bring by a bag for me? Mom mentioned she would send her to my place for some stuff so I can begin to feel human again." While having just arrived in New York City for her new position, Ell already had an apartment thanks to having family in the area who could look at places for her. She had already sent her stuff ahead and her mom had promised to send her sister to the apartment to dig through the boxes to at least find some sweats and socks or something so that Ell wouldn't feel so weird lying in bed with just the hospital gown on.

"Actually Jack ended up being the one sent to get your stuff. I think he was embarrassed to go through your things and just grabbed whatever he could get his hands on," Kaile said, leaning over and picking up an overstuffed duffel bag so Ell could see it. Good, that made her plans that much easier.

"Great. I'll probably put on something later." She yawned, only half faking its intensity. "I guess I'm headed back to sleep."

"That's totally fine, kid. I'll see you later." Ell nodded knowing that if her plan worked, Kaile would be seeing her a lot later than she expected to.

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Mac wearily rubbed his eyes as he sat back in his chair. He didn't really want to know what time it was, but his eyes wandered to the clock on his computer anyway. _3:48 am. Damn._ He really couldn't pull nights like this anymore. He could almost hear Stella's voice in his head. _You're way past your prime, Mac. Leave the work to the youngsters. Even Marines have to retire sometime._ No matter how many times he could hear her saying those words, he just couldn't let go of the job. Most days he thought it was the only thing that kept him sane.

Which was why he was still in his office at this crazy hour. He might not be allowed to run the investigation into Ella's shooting, but that didn't mean he couldn't keep abreast of it. It's not like anyone would refuse to give information to the Chief of Detectives, especially not under these circumstances. He had been making periodic phone calls ever since he heard the news about what had happened in Central Park, always carefully rotating through the various contacts he had so that nobody would think he was unduly pressuring them. His last phone call to Deveraux's precinct had revealed that the younger man was still there despite Scagnetti having gone home to his family. Mac pretty much had to order Deveraux home to get some sleep. While not as well equipped to handle sleep deprivation anymore, Mac could better afford the lack of sleep considering he wasn't the one on the streets needing his wits about him to stay alive.

He looked back down at the paperwork on his desk that he had been trying to work through in between making phone calls. He hadn't made a whole lot of progress. His mind's eye was unfortunately set on making him relive some of the worst moments of his life. Beirut. The Lessing bombings. The day Kaile was born and having to be the one who told Flack what had happened. Stella's death and finding Ella. That last memory was the worst.

Other than still keeping in sporadic touch with Reed Garret, the son Claire had given up for adoption before Mac even knew her, Mac had lived vicariously as a parent through the colleagues who had become like family to him despite the walls he always had up around himself. And while he loved each and every one of the kids, Ella was probably closest to his heart. She was his godchild, but more than that, she was the one kid who seemed most like him. Sometimes he wondered if that was a bad thing. His personality had led to somewhat of a lonely life romantically. But he liked to think that he had just had one true love in his life and no matter who he dated after he couldn't help comparing the relationship to that first one and always coming up short. Was it so bad that he was a one woman man?

It was funny how despite their similar looks Ana and Ella could inspire such different emotions in him. Ana reminded him so much of Stella with her outgoing, tough yet sensitive nature. He sometimes found himself reminiscing about his old friend when he would see Ana laugh and get that sparkle in her eyes. Ella on the other hand would often just stay near him and they wouldn't really need to talk to understand one another. On the various anniversaries of the bad things that had happened in his life, of which there were far too many, while others would give him condolences and a hug or handshake, Ella would just sit with him. Sometimes they just sat for a long time in silence, other times he would open up and tell her things he hadn't told a soul since Stella had died.

This affinity he had with Ella was part of the reason he hadn't spent much time at her bedside yet. If he was having flashbacks, he would wager that she was, too. The whole family was in various stages of turmoil. The kids who were too young to remember Stella were just worried about Ella. The ones who could recall that day all too easily were dealing with their own memories and fears on top of that same worry. And poor Ella was in the middle of it all, probably feeling guilty about causing all of this current pain, no matter how irrational that guilt was, just as Mac still felt guilty for not being able to spare her from what had happened twenty years ago.

It was why he was the only family member who acquiesced to her desire to be addressed as Ell rather than Ella. She didn't insist too hard with the family and instead just made the change mostly in her professional life, but he knew she didn't like how much the latter form of shortening her name sounded like her dead aunt's name.

As the frightened eleven-year-old's eyes popped into his head, Mac finally pushed himself to his feet. He could make calls from the hospital and it was about time he went to see Ella anyway. She was undoubtedly not talking to anyone about how she was feeling inside and she needed to get it out, one way or another. And if she wasn't awake then maybe he could at least get his mind to let him sleep for awhile if he was ostensibly keeping watch by staying in her room.

He was putting on his coat and shutting off his computer when the phone on his desk rang. Normally if he was heading out the door he would let it go to voicemail since anyone who really needed to reach him could call his cell. But there weren't a whole lot of people who knew the direct line to his office that bypassed the secretary and it was unlikely that anyone would call his office phone this late at night without an urgent reason. And his gut was telling him this was a call he should take.

"Taylor," he said into the receiver as he pushed some paperwork into a folder to take with him. "Whoa, Shayna, calm down and speak slower, I have no idea what you're saying." Sheldon and Tessa's oldest child had always tended to talk fast when excited or anxious and this was no exception. He looked down at his cell phone wondering why she hadn't called that and realized it was dead. _That's what happens when you don't go home for days, Taylor, you let things slip._ His niece's words brought him back to the conversation. "What? How in the hell is that possible? Are you sure?" He mentally reigned himself back a bit. Barking at her like she was a new recruit wouldn't help. Shayna was still in school, working towards becoming a large animal veterinarian, and was about as far from a law enforcement or military mentality as one could get in this family. "Okay, listen to me hon, I'm on my way. Just stay there and don't touch anything and tell the cops that were guarding the door to lock down the hospital. I'll take care of notifying your parents and your aunts and uncles, okay? I'm on my way," he said again before hanging up. He quickly picked the receiver back up and called Don, giving him an explanation as quickly as possible, before grabbing what he needed and heading downstairs to his car. One would think with his track record that he would be prepared for things to always get worse than they already were, but he was always surprised at just how bad things could get.

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JD sighed as he wearily climbed the steps up from the subway to the street near his apartment. He really needed this whole ordeal over, but it seemed unlikely that that would happen anytime soon. The criminal informant he and Scagnetti had questioned the day before had only told them that there had been vague rumblings within the gang about unhappiness on the part of the leaders about how the shooting went down, but the CI didn't have any names. He did say that he would keep an ear open for a possibility on how to resolve the problem and get the shooter to the cops so that they would back off the gang, but gave no promises.

Since that interview he had been combing databases for anyone that fit the description they had on the perp in the hopes that he could narrow the suspect list enough that Agent Messer could take a look at some faces and maybe make an ID. So far that idea wasn't looking good since she would have to look at faces for the next fifty years to cover all the possibilities.

As his mind kept turning, JD became aware of a woman moving towards him on the sidewalk and calling his name. At first he was a little bewildered. The woman looked to be what Agent Messer would look like when she wasn't lying on the ground bleeding profusely or lying in a hospital bed. This woman even had a gun and a badge attached to her hip. But then his brain clicked and he put together the pieces. _John said Agent Messer had a twin sister. He didn't mention how much alike they look. And I think he mentioned that she's ATF which explains the badge and gun._ JD stopped as the woman approached. The street was pretty quiet since it was pretty early, the sun just starting to think about coming up over the skyline. The only other person he noticed was a man standing against a car in the direction that the woman had come from, so the two of them had probably come together.

"Where the hell have you been?" JD was a bit taken aback by the vehemence of the question but the woman went on before he could respond. "Sorry," she muttered, running her hand through her hair. "I should probably introduce myself. Special Agent Ana Messer, ATF," she said, holding her hand out and briefly shaking with JD. "It's just, we've been waiting here for a bit, buzzing your apartment and calling your phone and we haven't gotten any answer."

JD looked at her, confused. "Why is it so urgent for you talk to me?"

"It was a long shot, but I wanted to check and see if you've seen or heard from my sister, Ella."

Now he was even more confused. "Agent Messer? Not since seeing her in the hospital a few days ago. Why, what's happened?"

"She's disappeared, that's what's happened." Ana now ran both hands through her hair. "We don't know why, but apparently she posed as me and just waltzed out past the guards outside her door a few hours ago. We wouldn't even know about it now except that a cousin, on a whim during a study break, decided to stop by the hospital in the middle of the night."

_Across the street and about half a block away…_

"That's him. Let's go." The car started moving forward.

"Wait." The car stopped. "Somebody's talking to him. Hell, that's the woman from the park!"

"I thought you said you hit her, that she was in the hospital."

"I did! She was in the hospital. Or at least that's what the news is saying. The police must be lying about where she is."

"So what do you want to do now?"

A sound reverberated in the car, the unmistakable sound of a gun being readied for action. "We take out two birds with one stone."

_Back again… _

Deveraux and Ana were still talking when JD heard the sound of a car gunning its engine from somewhere behind him, then a voice in front of him yelling out, "GUN!" Instinctively JD hit the deck, taking Agent Messer with him. He didn't have time to think about being sorry for how hard her head hit the cement because bullets were ricocheting all around them, off the car next to them that was providing their cover and off the walls of the apartment building on their other side. Some went through apartment windows and screams from inside quickly followed.

It seemed like an eternity, like eons passed between each shot, but in reality it lasted only a few seconds. He vaguely recognized some shots as being from a different weapon than the first one, his brain cataloging that as possibly being return fire from the man Ana Messer had been with. That guy's warning had saved their lives.

Eventually the gunfire ceased, the car gunned its engine again to race away, and JD was able to slowly rise, his previous injuries clamoring for attention over the new bruises and scrapes he had just acquired. Getting to one knee he looked down at the woman next to him. "Agent Messer? Are you okay?"

Ana moaned and rubbed the back of her head. "Besides a headache worse than any hangover I've ever had, I'm fine." Her eyes snapped open. "Jack!" She tried to rise but moved too quickly and ended up retching onto the sidewalk.

JD scanned around them and saw the man whom she must have been referring to. "He's fine, he's heading this way. He's talking on the phone, probably already calling this in."

The man approached, closing his phone as he came, and knelt next to Agent Messer. "Ana, are you okay?" he asked desperately, holding her face in his hands.

"Yeah, thanks to you and Detective Deveraux. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I got a license plate number and called it in. The cavalry should be here soon." As he talked he was running his hands over Ana, checking for injuries, and he found a nasty bump on the back of her head. She winced as he touched it. "Sorry, babe. I thought you said you were fine?"

"A bump to the head is nothing to being shot, so comparably I am fine. Help me stand up," she said. Both Jack and JD looked incredulous at the idea of her getting up but didn't have much choice other than to help her when she started to rise on her own, though she did have to concede to leaning against a car.

"Sorry about the harsh takedown," JD apologized.

"Hey, like I said, I'll take this over being shot any day." Ana gave him a weak grin. "Oh, I guess I should make introductions. Jack, this is Detective Deveraux. Deveraux, my fiancé, Special Agent Jack Dent, also ATF." The two men shook hands, Jack not straying far from Ana and subtly giving her physical support since she was looking a little pale. She winced as she lightly probed the back of her head, then her eyes flashed. "What a way to start the day."

Jack grinned, though without much humor. "It's never a dull time with you, babe."

Ana glanced at the devastation around them as sirens could be heard drawing closer. "Well, if a war is what these sons of bitches wanted, then a war is what they'll get."

JD didn't doubt it. While the Central Park shooting could have been looked upon as an unfortunate confluence of events, this had been a deliberate act. Obviously one or more of them had been the targets and shooting at an NYPD detective and two federal agents was a surefire way to start a war of sorts right here on the streets of New York City. Seeing hysterical people coming out of the apartment buildings, JD excused himself to go and calm everyone down and ask them to return to their residences for the time being unless they needed medical help. Yet another day looked to be shot to hell, literally.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN:** Nothing to see here. Proceed onwards...

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Fighting the urge to just collapse, Ell carefully lowered herself onto the motel mattress. The bed was about as comfortable as the one in the hospital, but it would have to do. She couldn't go to a more upscale hotel where they were more likely to recognize her face and let others know she was there. Anonymity was the most important thing at this point. 

She lay back against the pillow and wearily closed her eyes. Getting out of the hospital had been ridiculously easy. Being the child of cops she was well acquainted with the NYPD's shifts and had waited until there were new guys outside of her door who wouldn't know that Ana wasn't inside the room. Also, the early morning hours were the worst for something as boring as guard duty and she had been reasonably sure those sitting outside would be rookies who had been stuck with the unappetizing assignment. She only hoped they wouldn't be punished too harshly for letting her slip away.

The other steps in her plan weren't that much harder in terms of pulling them off, but were much more physically demanding. She didn't have any money or even her badge to bluff her way through with, so she had to walk from the hospital to her apartment carrying the duffel that Jack had packed. Thankfully her apartment was not terribly far away, but she was pretty sure she had pulled a stitch or two by the time she got there.

At the building's front door fortune smiled upon her. Despite the hour someone else was going in and he apparently saw nothing wrong with Ell catching the door and following him in. That probably had something to do with the alcohol she could smell on his breath.

She made it up to her apartment where Devon's lock-picking lessons had come in handy. It wasn't a skill she used often since as an FBI agent she had to be more concerned with warrants and probable cause than a Navy SEAL did, but it was convenient the one time she had forgotten her keys.

A complete mess had greeted her. Normally she would have likely been ticked at how haphazardly Jack had opened boxes looking for her clothes, but now she was grateful that she didn't have to spend time bent over opening them. She didn't have to lift them off one another either since Jack had done that as well, spreading them around most of the living room and bedroom.

She repacked her duffel bag with the clothes that would be most useful in her current situation, then looked for other useful items. Her back-up gun went in the pocket of her jacket since with her injured side there was no way she could bend to an ankle holster with any kind of speed. Her first aid kit went in the duffel along with extra ammo and a few other items while a couple of credit cards went into the pocket of her sweats.

After all of that, she headed back downstairs and across the street to use the credit cards to make a couple of large cash withdrawals at the ATM. She knew her family would probably figure out that she went to the apartment for supplies, so using the ATM wouldn't give them anything they wouldn't already have, and she needed the cash so that she couldn't be traced after this point.

Just as she was about to head down the stairs to the subway (since taking a cab could mean her family could track her through the cab company), she saw a taxi pull up outside her building and her younger brother get out. Someone must have noticed she was gone. Her plan had almost been foiled before she actually got the chance to do anything.

As she breathed in the slightly moldy air inside the rundown motel she had found across town she tried to settle her mind. With things to do she had been able to push down the part of her that wanted to freak out and curl into a fetal position. Now those feelings came roaring to the forefront. Since she was off the bigger medications now and relying solely on her supply of ibuprofen she knew that the nightmares would probably be constant companions whenever she fell asleep.

Opening her eyes again, Ell thought about turning on the TV, but decided against it. Eventually she might need to watch the news to get an idea of where the investigation was going since she had effectively cut herself off from official channels, but for now she didn't feel like seeing her own face splashed all across the screen and hearing others talk about her in the abstract. And since this motel that hadn't seen a décor change in half a century only offered the main network channels plus ESPN, television wasn't currently an option. The former were probably talking about the Central Park incident during all of their morning shows while the latter didn't work as an escape either because of Dominic. So, she decided to take care of some other things instead.

First order of business was freshening up a bit so that she didn't look like what she was, a hospital escapee. Then she needed to go out and find some food and a cell phone. Even today there were ways to call people and at the very least make it hard for them to find out where you were calling from. Before she resorted to the media for her information on the case, she had one other idea.

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JD leaned back against the wall of the elevator and closed his eyes as he headed down from the NYPD crime lab. That situation had been awkward to say the least.

"_What the **hell** is going on?" Danny Messer was in fine form, but nobody could blame him. Having one daughter shot at and now missing and the other shot at and coming away with a nasty bump to the head in the span of a few days would make anyone upset._

_Lindsay motioned him to be quiet as Don was still on the phone. Danny just snorted and kept pacing between Lindsay's desk and the wall of her office. It was about the only space left to pace considering all the people who were packed in. Dominic Messer was sitting in one of the chairs in front of the desk, Sheldon Hawkes in the other, while Don was behind the desk using Lindsay's phone. Kaile Flack had taken the armchair in one corner of the room and Ana and Jack had sat on the loveseat that along with the chair were positioned around a coffee table. Devon stood leaning against the wall to Kaile's left which left JD and Scagnetti standing by the door._

_Things had been a bit crazy and disjointed since Ella's disappearance and the shooting outside of JD's apartment, so a family meeting was set up in Lindsay's office with JD and Scagnetti invited to join in. Tessa was with Shayna who was a little shaken up about discovering her cousin gone and Mac was off doing whatever it was he did. At that moment he was checking in with Don._

_JD absently rubbed his shoulder as he looked around the room. Nobody looked like they had gotten much sleep since last Saturday with the possible exception of Scagnetti who had gone home to his family each night. Ana was holding ice to the back of her head while her fiancé had one arm around her shoulders and his other hand holding her free one. Danny Messer couldn't stop moving, alternating __between the pacing and stopping to rub the shoulder of his wife, who had her arms crossed protectively over her chest__. Dominic Messer didn't much look the part of big shot baseball player at the moment. His usually clean shaven face was covered in stubble and he too couldn't stay still for long as evidenced by his bouncing leg._

_The other three family members in the room were relatively calm. Kaile Flack sat hunched forward in her chair, arms braced on her knees, hands clenched together and leaning forward so you couldn't see her face. Devon's face was impassive, not giving away any of his thoughts, but he was visibly tense. Sheldon Hawkes seemed the most relaxed out of anyone. JD figured he wasn't the type to panic. Rather, by the meticulous notes the doctor seemed to be taking, he figured the man as the type to just write out and think through everything rather than worry incessantly about what was wrong._

_Finally Don Flack hung up the phone and looked to the group who gazed at him expectantly. "Mac's heard from someone who looked at the ATM tapes. Devon was right, Ella did use the one right across from her apartment. She looks to have headed towards the subway, so it will be hard to track her." He leaned forward to put his elbows on the desk and rubbed his face with his hands. "As for the shooting at Detective Deveraux's apartment building, we have five injuries from flying glass, but nothing too serious."_

"_I think Ana coming away with a concussion is serious, Flack!" Danny was obviously hyped up enough to take anything personally._

"_I'm fine, Dad," Ana spoke up before an argument could start. "The paramedics said they didn't think it was serious. I just have a headache."_

_Jack took his fiancé's cue and directed the conversation away from her injuries. "Did they get any leads from the license plate number I got?"_

_Don looked down at the notes he had taken while talking to Mac on the phone. "The car is registered to one Juan Martinez who it turns out died in a drive-by a few weeks ago. The shooter and the accomplice who drove ditched the car a few blocks from the shooting. They're dusting for prints, but that will take awhile."_

"_This is insane!" Danny suddenly turned to Scagnetti and Deveraux. "You two said that you linked one of the dead kids to the Mexicali street gang, right? Why don't we go bust down some doors?"_

"_Okay, first," Don responded for them, "you're not going anywhere, Danny."_

"_This is my family, Flack!" Danny's eyes flashed._

"_Exactly. You know you can't be an official part of any aspect of either investigation." He didn't respond to Danny's snort of disgust as he resumed his pacing. "Secondly, Mac said that the FBI, ATF and NYPD are already setting up a massive raid along with any other agency that feels like pitching in. Everybody's working together without all the usual politics. This time tomorrow the Mexicali gang will pretty much be out of business. We'll be pulling in everyone and their dog on warrants, parking tickets, overdue library books, you name it. We'll find whoever did this, Danny."_

"_In the meantime," Sheldon broke in, "why don't we focus on Ella. Why did she leave and how can we possibly find her?"_

"_Who was the last to see Ella?" Scagnetti asked, flipping open his notebook to take notes._

"_We saw her in the afternoon, but she was sleeping," Lindsay said. "Didn't you say you talked to her while we were gone at lunch, Kaile?"_

_The younger woman looked up. "Yeah. She seemed fine. We didn't talk for long, just joked a little about Dom and Devon roughing up Detective Deveraux, then she fell back asleep."_

"_Whoa, hold up, you told her about what happened between us and him?" Dominic asked, motioning from himself to his brother and then over to JD. "And she wasn't upset about it?"_

_Kaile sat back and looked confused. "I assumed someone had told her by now. Besides, when I brought it up she didn't seem surprised."_

"_She could have heard it from someone else, like a nurse," Don suggested._

"_Shit." Everyone looked at Ana. "Or she could have just hid the fact that she didn't know about the incident and waited until she had the opportunity to slip away, just like last time."_

_Nobody seemed to feel the need to elaborate, so JD jumped in. "I'm sorry, but I'm confused. Why would the misunderstanding between me and her brothers cause Agent Messer to want to leave the hospital?"_

"_Because she feels responsible for your injuries," Danny told him, resuming his pacing. "Damnit!" he swore, punching his hand forcefully into the wall almost hard enough to break bones._

_Sheldon could see that JD was still confused and Jack was a little lost as well even though he knew a lot about the family's history. "Twenty years ago when Ella and Ana were eleven, Ella witnessed her aunt getting shot. Despite her age at the time, Ella has always struggled with feeling responsible for not being able to prevent her aunt's death."_

"_And she ran away that time, too," Ana added. "But I'm guessing Mac already checked where he found her last time." Don nodded. "My question is," Ana continued, "why Devon pushing Deveraux up against the wall was a big enough stressor to get Ella to want to run."_

_Kaile clenched her hands together tighter. "I may have also mentioned the injuries he sustained while canvassing the neighborhood," she admitted._

_Dominic stood up, his eyes flashing much like his father's. "What the hell, Kaile? Were you trying to bring up painful memories for her?"_

_Kaile stood up just as fast and went toe to toe with him, looking down slightly from her height advantage of a couple of inches. "Don't you dare, Dominic Messer. Don't you **dare**__ act like I don't care. I was there twenty years ago, too, remember? And I'm still here; I'm not the one who left to rake in the money." Her eyes flashed with anger, but were also obviously close to tears. Before they could fall, she turned and fled the room, roughly brushing past JD on her way out. After a slight hesitation, Dominic followed._

_Don started to get up, but Lindsay moved and put a hand on his arm. "Let them go, Don. You know how they are." Flack didn't look happy about it, but he did as she asked._

Eventually it was decided to tell the press that Ella had been moved to an undisclosed location for her safety. Those in law enforcement and at the hospital that knew the truth weren't likely to dispute the spin they put on the situation. Even if they did, most of them couldn't prove that Ella wasn't moved out in the middle of the night by her family.

In the meantime everyone would use their contacts to find out as much as possible about what was going on. They would also do their best to track her discreetly so as not to let on that she was missing.

Obviously on his last legs (a perpetual state for him lately), JD was sent home. Or rather, he was sent off to get some rest. He could go with a uniform to pick up some things from his apartment, but for the time being it was decided that he should book a hotel room somewhere since the bad guys apparently knew where he lived.

As JD thought about what he needed to pack, his cell phone rang. He answered and got a surprise. Hanging up after the brief conversation, he barely had the phone back in its holder at his waist before it went off again. This time the surprise was an even bigger one.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** Continued thanks for all the reviews! You guys are great! And also a continued big thank-you to my amazing betas without whom this story wouldn't be nearly as good. :)

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Mac looked down on the somewhat organized chaos below him from his perch on the catwalk. The huge warehouse was utilized by the NYPD for a myriad of purposes. For now it had been converted into a massive staging area for the upcoming raids. The collection of law enforcement agencies preparing to work together was practically unprecedented, at least for something that didn't involve national security. 

He didn't turn when he heard someone approaching. In his peripheral vision he could tell his nephew had come to stand next to him. Neither spoke for a few moments, but eventually Devon broke their silence.

"Anyone down there who owes you a favor?" Mac bit back a sigh. He had anticipated this. It was one of several reasons why he had come here.

"Whether I do or not is beside the point. You're not law enforcement, Devon. I know you can take care of yourself, I know this is about your sister, I know all the reasons you want to be a part of one of the teams, but the answer is no. And I think you knew that before you came here."

The younger man shifted and folded his arms. "Never hurts to ask." He blew out a breath. "I think this would be one of those times you warned us about years ago."

Mac smiled at the memory. He had given a version of "the talk" to all of his nieces and nephews. Their parents instilled right and wrong in the kids as parents should, but like most good parents they tended to shield their kids and be a tad too idealistic at times despite their own professions. In fact, their professions probably pushed Don, Danny, Lindsay, Sheldon and Tessa to be even more optimistic around their kids because they feared allowing their jobs to rub off on their children.

But the kids learned early on that they could always come to their Uncle Mac for the unvarnished truth. And at some point he gave them all "the Mac talk," the conversation where he let them know that sometimes it just sucks to be the good guy. That there would be times where you just had to do the right thing even though it seemed like there was no reason to and maybe even multiple reasons why not doing the right thing would be better.

Devon's turn for the talk had probably come under the most trying circumstances of anyone. At the age of twelve he suspected one of the kids in his class was being abused. It wasn't obvious enough to catch the attention of the overworked teacher, but Devon suspected what was going on. But he didn't know if he should do anything since being wrong could cause all kinds of trouble and heartache. What complicated matters was the fact that the family involved was in the country illegally and even at that age Devon knew what that meant. Reporting the possible abuse could get the family noticed and deported.

Not knowing what to do and becoming increasingly worked up over the matter, Devon eventually confided in the sibling closest to him, Ella. She was away at college, but she encouraged him to talk to Mac and so he did and that's when he got the "sucks to be the good guy sometimes" talk along with the "trust your instincts" talk. Then Mac had helped him report his suspicions and they were able to get the kids removed from the abusive household. To this day Devon kept in touch with that kid from his class and his younger sister.

Devon leaned his forearms against the railing in front of them. "Has Ella called you?"

"No," Mac told him. He ran a hand down his face. It stung a little that Devon felt the need to ask him that question but he supposed he deserved it. He had never told her parents where she went the night she ran away from home and Danny and Lindsay had never quite forgiven him for that fact. It wasn't a huge deal, but whenever they felt like Ella wasn't telling them everything (which was most of the time), they would look at Mac somewhat accusingly like he had an inside track to Ella that rightfully belonged to them. Truth be told she didn't tell him all that much more than she did them, but they did have a unique relationship that he couldn't deny and so he didn't bother trying to defend himself to them. "She'll show up when she's ready."

"I know that," Devon replied. "It's just…I know she runs because it's hard for her to face things, but sometimes she needs to turn and handle them. If she would talk to Mom and Dad about how their fear affects her they would be far less hurt about that then they are now about how she ran away from them."

Mac didn't comment right away. While Devon was more reserved than Dominic and Ana, he was a Navy SEAL and so strongly believed in facing things head on. As a former Marine, Mac had a lot of that in him as well. But he had also gone through losing a spouse in one horrific, tragic moment that he had lived through with the smoke and debris which made him wary of emotional entanglements. The kids had helped with a lot of that, but he understood where Ella was coming from. It just wasn't easy to explain to someone who had never had a similar life experience.

"I think your sister just believes right now that the best thing for her to do is handle things on her own. It won't be forever and she knows that when she comes back she's going to have to deal with everyone's feelings, but running is what she does. At the very least she'll probably be back among us by next week."

Devon turned and raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think she'll come back that soon?"

Mac smirked sardonically. "She's supposed to report into her field office for her first day on Monday. Ella might run, but she never shirks her official duties."

Devon thought about that for a moment and then nodded. "You have a point." He turned to look down again at the assembled law enforcement personnel below them. "What do you think she's up to? Do you think she just ran off to get away from everyone for awhile?"

"I hope so." But Mac wasn't sure that was all she would do. He had a nagging suspicion that even in her injured state she would try to do something proactive to solve the current situation. It wasn't like she hadn't done similar things in the past. He just prayed that she didn't hurt herself in the process. Or worse.

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Ell shifted in the hard pew. The wood wasn't helping her injuries much, but comfort hadn't been high on her list of priorities when picking this place to meet with Detective Deveraux. There was a subway entrance not thirty feet from the church's front door if she needed to make a quick getaway, plus the church was big enough and busy enough that they wouldn't be noticed.

She was a little worried about meeting with Deveraux. She had no real guarantee that he wouldn't tell her family about the meeting despite his promise not to. But he was her last ditch effort for finding out information and he had insisted on talking in person.

She shifted again and tried to not look guilty. Having a weapon in the church felt wrong. It had always felt wrong, even when she had to enter one on official FBI business. But then, guilt was not an uncommon emotion for her and she had become pretty adept at hiding it. Her musings were cut short when someone joined her in the pew.

"I feel like we should have established some kind of code phrase to indicate the all clear," came the appropriately hushed male voice from beside her. Ell couldn't help but smile.

"How about 'the eagle has landed?'" She turned to find the NYPD detective returning her smile.

"Works for me." He rubbed his eyes and she could tell that he was working on minimal sleep.

"I'm sorry about all of this, Detective Deveraux," she told him, not quite able to meet his gaze.

He paused for a moment before replying. "Your family gave me a cursory background as to why you might have left the hospital and why it had something to do with me." He kept going despite seeing her tense up as she turned forward once again. "I know saying it wasn't your fault probably won't help, but think about it this way. If I hadn't done that canvas and knocked on that door and gotten the crap kicked out of me that poor woman would probably still be getting the crap kicked out of her." When she turned towards him he held her gaze. "My ribs hurt like hell and I'll probably whine to Scagnetti for weeks about them," he smiled and she gave him a small one in return, "but I can honestly say that it's worth it knowing that my actions gave that woman the courage to finally leave her husband and file charges against him."

Ell searched his gaze. This was a new tactic, one her family had never really tried. "Okay, maybe I'll grant you that one. But it still doesn't change the fact that people have gotten hurt because of my actions in the park and I need to fix that before more people get hurt, Detective."

"I think I told you days ago that you could call me JD," he reminded her. She rolled her eyes and he got the point to move on. "Okay, so I thought about this on my way over here. Let's start from the beginning. You shot one suspect, killing him, and shot at another and probably wounded him. But one of them had already killed the first dead guy."

"We don't know that for sure, I didn't see the first shot," she interjected.

"Do you honestly think he committed suicide?" JD asked her. Eventually her investigative instincts overrode her guilt and she had to shake her head. "So, right, the guys you shot were bad guys who shot at you first anyway. But even beyond that, what do you think would have happened if you hadn't been there?"

"They would have gotten away and the cops would have eventually been able to catch them," she replied.

"Sure, but we probably would have been going after them for more than one murder." She furrowed her brow in confusion which urged him on to explain. "The uniforms who got on the scene about the same time I did told me later that they passed an older couple strolling on the path in your direction. They were hearing impaired since they didn't hear the uniforms until they were practically on top of them so of course they didn't hear the shots. If you hadn't been in the area and that couple had walked up on the bad guys, what do you think would have happened to them?"

She turned and gazed back at the crucifix displayed prominently at the front of the church. She didn't want to believe him. It was too easy to just feel guilty. But she didn't think he was the type of guy to make something like this up. And if what he said about the couple was true, then it was probable that they could have been injured or worse if she hadn't been there.

"As for what your brothers did," JD continued, knowing that his logic was having an impact on her, "it's really not a big deal. Devon wrenched my shoulder a little, but I can't really blame him. He had no idea who I was and what I was doing in your hospital room."

Ell didn't know what to think at this point. She searched his face not quite knowing what she was looking for. Eventually she sighed. "All of this might help assuage some of my guilt, but it doesn't change my mind about what I need to do. If I can find and bring in the guy that got away then nobody else needs to get hurt and this whole circus can end."

She could tell he was contemplating on whether to tell her something. Eventually he came to a decision. "I might be able to help you with that. A snitch that Scagnetti and I went to see yesterday called me right before you did. Supposedly the head of Mexicali would like to meet with me. I'm thinking he's tired of the exposure and willing to cut his losses." He paused for a moment. "If you honestly think you're up to it, you can come with me. The meeting is set for tonight and I'm not anticipating it to be too exciting. They're already under a lot of scrutiny and they have to know that trying anything else will just cause the hammer that's dropping on them to be all that much heavier."

Ell's eyes flashed. This was more than she could have hoped for. "You're on, JD."

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JD felt like a total and complete ass. He should have told Agent Messer about the shooting outside of his apartment and about her sister's injury. He figured she had yet to hear about that one since she had been out of the loop since her great escape, but it was a little harder to make that incident not sound so bad like he had been able to do with the others.

To mask his uneasiness as they rode the subway towards their meeting with the Mexicali gang members, he decided to ask a question that had popped into his mind when on the walk to the subway she told him he could call her Ell. "So," he started, "do you go by Ell or Ella? Because you said I could call you Ell, but your family has been referring to you as Ella."

The woman next to him smiled. "I've gone by Ell since high school but my family can't seem to make the switch. Mac calls me Ell, but that's about it. My family are the only ones who can get away with calling me Ella." Her smile seemed to turn a little sad and the light bulb went off in his head. Changing her name had probably had something to do with her aunt's death. Feeling like an idiot he searched his brain for something else to talk about, but she continued before he could think of anything.

"Sometimes I think I shouldn't have bothered shortening my name. Everyone assumes I spell it with an 'e' at the end, but I don't because it doesn't make sense since my name is Daniella, not Danielle. It gets a little annoying having to spell my name all the time. But when I've complained to my sister she has no sympathy. Her name, Ana, is spelled with just one 'n' and most everyone assumes that there's two."

"Why does she spell it with just one?" he asked curiously.

"Because of what it's short for." She turned and smiled at him. "My sister's full name is Montana."

His eyebrows went up. "As in the state?"

"Exactly." She smiled in a way he hadn't seen before from her. "My mom is originally from there and when she moved here my dad started off by teasing her and often calling her by the name of her home state. It eventually became more a term of endearment than an annoyance. Then once they were married my mom had been saying that she wanted to name one of us kids after Dad but he resisted since Mom wasn't letting him name any kids after her. Then they had twin girls and compromised. I would be Daniella but called Ella rather than Dani so that I would be distinct from my dad and my sister was Montana so that she was named after our mom but not the same." Her smile grew a touch wider. "Occasionally when Dominic is being an annoying brother he'll call her Monty. You don't want to be around when that happens."

JD chuckled. "I'll try to remember that." They lapsed into a comfortable silence as he considered what they were doing. Was he insane? Both of them were skilled members of law enforcement, but neither was in tip top shape and they were headed to meet the leader of one of the worst gangs in New York City. Secondary to worries about their safety was the concerns he had for his career. He hadn't cleared this meeting with anyone, hadn't even told his partner. And even if the meeting turned out to be productive, he was pretty sure the Messers and Chief Taylor and that whole group would be ticked off at him. He could only hope that Ell would back him up with her family and he could at least keep his job. As for the meeting itself, he had his ace in the hole. He could hold over the gang leader's head the knowledge that his gang would be virtually shut down and put away early the next day if he didn't cooperate fully.

All of a sudden a loud rumbling came from the vicinity of JD's stomach. Ell turned and smirked at him. "Hungry, Detective?"

"Maybe a little," he admitted. He checked his watch. "I know we were going to do a little reconnaissance before the meeting, but it's only seven and the meeting isn't until midnight." Why the gang members wanted to meet in the middle of the night he had no idea, but he figured letting them choose the time and place would make them comfortable and more likely to open up. "Why don't we stop for some food first?"

Ell started to speak but then laughed as JD's stomach growled again. "I guess we don't have much choice do we?" she asked as she put a hand to her side which throbbed a bit from the laughter.

JD grinned unrepentantly. "Do you have any suggestions of where we should go, or do you want to just get off at the next stop and see what there is?"

Ell listened to the PA system that was telling them where they were. She knew much of the city like the back of her hand even after years of living elsewhere and still remembered some of the great places her family had gone to eat once upon a time. "There is a great Italian place near the station three stops from here. Think you can wait that long?"

He sighed dramatically. "If I have to."

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Mac looked down at the diagrams that had been drawn up for the upcoming assaults. There were several illustrations, one for each of the sites being hit, and each showed a meticulous attention to detail. Law enforcement raids probably looked like mostly chaos to any civilians who had witnessed one, but in reality they were more often than not carefully planned including discussions of contingency plans for anything, good or bad, that could happen.

Mac and Devon stood on the periphery of just such a discussion now. Team leaders from the FBI, NYPD, ATF, DEA and even ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) were talking out how each raid should go. To minimize the possibility of confusion each agency had been given their own place to raid so that teams from different organizations didn't mistake a friendly for an enemy. Since it was primarily an NYPD case, two of its SWAT teams were being given the biggest and toughest assignment, the building where the leader of the Mexicali gang supposedly resided.

The element of surprise was key. The initial plan had been for all the teams to attack simultaneously tomorrow morning. But now some were pushing the idea of moving up the time of the raids.

"We're ready to go," asserted Lt. Angela Garcia, who was in charge of the NYPD assault. "I think we should hit earlier, the sooner the better. They might be expecting something, but they won't think that we could get this much arranged in this short of a timeframe, so they won't be worried about defending themselves just yet. The longer we wait, the longer they have to scatter throughout the city or fortify their locations or acquire more firepower or all of the above." Garcia's somewhat petite frame fooled a lot of people into thinking she was harmless, but Mac and everyone else in the room knew different. From what Mac knew of her, she had earned her reputation as one of the best at what she did and he was glad to have her there.

Nick Goodman, a huge black man almost busting out of the ATF t-shirt he wore and who fit the more stereotypical physical profile of his profession, nodded in agreement. "Garcia's right. Tonight's perfect. The weather's clear and also, hitting in the middle of the night means there will be less of a possibility that innocent civilians will be up and roaming around."

Eventually a consensus was reached that the raids would commence at exactly 12:14 am, the team leaders synchronizing their watches so that they would all hit their assigned targets simultaneously. The odd time was chosen so that nobody would be able to predict when the raids would take place.

Something was gnawing at Mac's gut. He couldn't figure out what his uneasiness was coming from, but for some unknown reason he didn't like the idea of moving up the timetable for the raids. But without anything substantial to base his bad feeling on, and not being formally in charge of anything to do with the raids, he couldn't really do anything but hope and pray that his gut was just overreacting.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN:** I have no knowledge of law enforcement tactics beyond what I glean from TV/movies/books/etc., so consider anything you know to be wrong to just be dramatic license. :)

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JD refrained from making any of the comments or asking any of the questions that were popping to mind and focused on scanning the building across from him. From everything he had learned about the woman, Ell Messer was not one to tolerate inquiries about her well-being and seemed smart enough to say something if it was really necessary. But from her moans of pain he figured she might have pulled a stitch or two by now.

Truth be told he wasn't doing all that hot either what with his busted ribs. Both of them had wanted a covert look at the meeting place before going in, so they made it up to the rooftop of the building directly across from the Mexicali gang's current headquarters. To reach their desired vantage point JD had pulled down the ladder of the fire escape on the back of the building which did no favors for his injured shoulder and then they had both climbed the four stories worth of metal stairs which had done neither of them any good.

"I propose taking the elevator on the way back down," he muttered to his companion. "I don't think my ribs can take any more stairs right now." Referencing his own injury was his way of giving her an out for picking the easier way down because he already knew that she was much more likely to give in for someone else than for herself.

When he got no response, JD finally turned to the woman next to him who was sitting on the roof with her back to the wall that he had been looking over. He mentally swore to himself. She was beyond pale, probably due to losing blood after pulling some of her stitches. "This is insane. I'll call Scagnetti and he can go in with me."

Ell's eyes opened and despite her obvious pain and flagging strength, the determination there wasn't diminished one bit. "No. Short of tying me up there's no way you can keep me from going over there, so we might as well not argue about it."

JD understood her position, but he wasn't about to let the issue go that easily. "You're struggling to sit up straight. This isn't just about your well-being. In your current state I'll be constantly worrying about you instead of focusing on the meeting and I could miss something that could get us both killed. If you were running an operation would you let one of your people participate if they weren't physically up to it to the point where they could put your team in danger?"

Once again JD seemed to be able to find the one argument that could really get through to her. He could see the resignation on her face and regretted that she couldn't do something that seemed so important to her, but knew that it was best for all involved that she didn't come.

"If I don't go you won't have any back-up," Ell pointed out, obviously throwing up any last minute objection that she could think of.

"I'll call Scagnetti and tell him where I am so he can join the meeting after it starts, but I'm going to have to go in alone because I can't afford to be late." He had a moment of inspiration and took out his phone. "Look, you can still help me out. You still have your phone, right?" Ell nodded. "Okay, so I'll program a specific ring tone for your number and if anything happens outside that I need to know about, like Scagnetti showing up or a bunch of gang members suddenly appearing or whatever, you can call to let me know and I'll know to pick up because of the ring tone."

Ell searched his face, opened her mouth and then closed it, seeming to think better of what she had been about to say. He could guess what she was thinking. His suggestion sounded like some lame attempt to keep her occupied so she wouldn't feel left out. But honestly a lookout was something he probably would have had if he had gone through normal channels for coordinating this meeting. However, he didn't list for her all the legitimate reasons he had for asking her to do this for him. Anything he said now would sound like afterthought justifications so he just met her gaze and tried to convey his good intentions.

What he hadn't counted on was being mesmerized by her eyes. He remembered noticing their color days ago in the park and he was struck by them again. While the windows to her soul were shuttered, Ell Messer still couldn't help but show some things through her eyes. The wave of mixed emotions he felt rolling off of her was tremendous.

Suddenly that connection was lost when she broke contact and looked down. He blinked hard and tried not to show how much he had just been affected, though exactly _how_ he had been affected was something he would have to sort out later.

Ell held out her phone. "There's my number," she said, angling the screen towards him. The number had been blocked from his phone when she called him earlier, so he quickly keyed it in.

"Any preferences on the ring tone?" he asked trying to bring some levity to the suddenly tense situation.

She smirked slightly. "Since you probably can't get 'Secret Agent Man' on such short notice, anything will do."

JD smiled. He should have expected something unique from her like a real oldie. Apparently her parents had given her a similar education in music to the one his mother had given him. "I'll remember that for future reference though."

"You do that." Ell closed her eyes until JD put a hand on her shoulder and once again their eyes met and that connection was still there.

"When the meeting is over I'll come back over here for you and I'll take you wherever you want to go. Just because you can't help out on an operation doesn't mean I'll force you to go back to the hospital or your family if that's not what you want."

For only the second time since he had met her Ell smiled in a genuine way that didn't have any sarcasm behind it or any hint of being held back for some reason. She squeezed his hand and then he got up and headed for the door to the interior of the building, careful to stay behind things so that he wouldn't be spotted, but never having taken notice of the man doing much the same across the street.

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Mac gazed out through the glass of Lindsay's office towards the lab that he had once been directly in charge of. Technology had changed and improved over the years since the job had been his and almost none of the big pieces of lab equipment looked the same as the ones he once used. But technological changes had never bothered Mac. He always considered the people working the machines and interpreting the data to be the most important part of the process and nothing would ever change that. There had been talk for decades that crime labs would eventually be able to cut down on the number of personnel they had because computers would just replace most of their jobs. Mac would always just raise an eyebrow to anyone who advanced that theory and give them one of the thousands of examples he had of how qualified people would always be needed. He wouldn't have traded any of his people for all the sophisticated equipment in the world.

He listened to the conversations going on behind him as he continued to look out at the quiet lab where the night staff was going about their business and trying not to look at their boss' office. Danny, Dominic and Devon were all starting to get anxious and Lindsay, Don, Kaile and Ana were doing their best to calm them down while Jack just wisely kept his mouth shut. Hawkes and Tessa were home since they still had a teenager in the house but everyone else had convened in Lindsay's office to listen in on what was going on with the raids. Mac wished for Hawkes' calming presence as well as his medical expertise because he was beginning to think that Danny might end up having an aneurysm he was so agitated.

Mac was choosing to stay out of the fray for the moment. Danny wouldn't welcome any interference from him right now. Also, Mac was awaiting Scagnetti's arrival. He had called John thinking he deserved to be in on what was happening, but he had been unable to get a hold of Deveraux and he hoped that Scagnetti had had better luck.

Just then the elevator door opened and Scagnetti stepped out. He waved a weary hand at Mac when he noticed him, but then stopped and looked down. His phone must have rung since he pulled it out. Mac drew his eyebrows together as Scagnetti looked relieved as he answered the call, then worried and angry, then turned towards the elevator and pushed the down button. Without alerting the others – who were completely oblivious – Mac left the office and joined Scagnetti at the elevator as he closed his phone and put it back on his belt.

"Hear from your partner?" he asked the younger man.

Scagnetti just shook his head ruefully. "I plead the fifth." The door opened up and John walked in with Mac following. Scagnetti leaned against a wall and sighed. "I promise I don't know anything about Ell, Mac."

Leaning against the opposite wall of the elevator as they descended, Mac held up a restraining hand. "I'm not interested in busting your partner's chops, John, you should know that. But I need to know what's going on."

After a few moments Scagnetti gave in. "Look, he just got a little over eager, Mac. He got an invitation from a CI we had talked to earlier to meet with the head of Mexicali, and thinking I needed the time with my family he went by himself, but he came to his senses and called me for back up. No big deal."

"When is the meeting?" Mac asked urgently, the knot that had formed in his stomach suddenly becoming tighter.

"Right now," Scagnetti told him. "I'll be a little late, but we're not expecting problems since the gang wouldn't be so stupid as to cause any more trouble with NYPD."

"Shit," Mac cursed as he pulled out his phone.

"What?" John asked, straightening up and looking much more alert than he had just a few moments before.

"The raids got moved up. The teams hit their targets in about 15 minutes." Mac focused on his call as Scagnetti did some of his own cursing while pulling his phone back out. "Yes, this is Chief Taylor; I need to talk to Lt. Garcia. I _know_ she's in the middle of an operation, I need to be patched through _right the hell now_!" He looked up as the scared dispatcher worked to put him through to the SWAT team leader and saw Scagnetti shaking his head.

"His phone is going straight to voicemail now." They both knew what that could mean and it wasn't good.

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Ell groaned as another burst of pain shot through her side. She had stupidly not brought any ibuprofen with her when she met Deveraux at the church, so by now she was operating without even minimal painkillers. At least the pain was keeping her awake and alert.

Giving herself a half pep talk, half lecture she finally managed to move to her knees and actually peer over the wall to be the lookout JD had asked for. Fortunately, while she had forgotten the pills, she was always prepared for action and so in addition to her weapon and extra ammo she had packed her scope. It was small and not something most people would look twice at but its size was deceptive. Looking through it she could zoom into things hundreds of yards away to the degree where she could read newspaper print. And even better for her current situation, with one push of a button she could view her surroundings through infrared night vision giving her the ability to pick out any moving people, animals, or anything else with a warm temperature. She was the envy of many of her fellow agents because the Bureau couldn't afford to give toys like these to all of their people. Ell only had hers because Devon had given it to her for Christmas. It was one of the best gifts she had ever gotten.

Focusing on the third floor window of the apartment Deveraux had said he would be going in to, Ell turned on the infrared. She was immediately able to discern several figures in the apartment. Okay, everything seemed okay there, so she zoomed back out and started scanning around.

A flash of red on the roof caught her attention. _What the hell was someone doing on the roof at this time of night?_ Then the first figure was joined by another. Ell turned off the infrared and zoomed in, almost losing sight of the figures they were so well camouflaged. When her brain finally caught up with what she was seeing she swore. Those were SWAT guys or FBI or some form of law enforcement and if she was right they were about to rappel down the side of the building to bust through the windows of the Mexicali apartment as part of a raid.

Ell quickly pulled out her phone and punched the necessary buttons to call JD, but his number went directly to voicemail. Her heart rate momentarily jumped, then her mind shifted into tactical mode. Completely blocking the pain that was assuredly still there, she moved towards the roof door to head downstairs. If JD had run into the raid team that was about to strike he would have called and warned her. He probably took the elevator while the other part of the raid team was stationed in the stairwells and so their paths didn't cross. But their paths were about to cross dramatically if the team crashed into the apartment with JD there. That type of situation had more bad possible outcomes than good ones, so she was determined to get there and warn JD and back him up. Nobody else was getting hurt if she could help it.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN:** This chapter is a bit shorter than the previous ones, but that's just how it shook out. Hopefully what happens in the chapter makes up for its lack of length. :)

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"Yes, that has to be Detective Deveraux. Hold your men until you know he's clear because he has no clue you're coming. You'll have to tell the other teams to hold as well since we don't want to blow the element of surprise." Inwardly Mac breathed a sigh of relief. 

As Scagnetti drove them across town, Mac had finally managed to reach Garcia. She informed him that they had observed someone entering the building but had not been able to see his face and so couldn't take a picture to run through facial recognition software. The unidentified male had entered the target apartment just before the teams were set up to observe him, so they hadn't identified him then either. Thinking he was just another gang member or at least not a good guy, the decision had been made to move forward with the raid until Mac called to say that their anonymous male was in fact an NYPD detective there on official business.

Mac listened as Garcia argued for going in anyway, saying that the team could identify Deveraux as a friendly and avoid him. "No, Lieutenant. Your people are some of the best there are, but you can't predict how Deveraux will react to a raid team he didn't know was coming. Besides, the plan called for surprising the people in the apartment while they were sleeping or at least not alert but they'll be wide awake and probably armed if they planned for a meeting." Garcia tried some more persuasion but suddenly there was a burst of conversation from Garcia's tactical communication gear that Mac could vaguely hear but not understand and then a popping noise could be heard over the phone connection.

"What the hell?" Garcia didn't reply as she was more concerned with finding out herself what in the hell was going on. Voices were yelling at each other and just before Mac was cut off he heard talk to the effect that shots had been fired inside the apartment and the teams were going in to respond to it.

"What's happening?" Scagnetti asked, glancing at Mac.

"Step on it and flip on the lights and sirens." They had been traveling without them up to that point in an attempt to keep from alerting the neighborhood as they approached, but that was a moot point now. Mac gave Scagnetti a brief description of what he had heard and then they were both quiet as they sped down the city streets. Both had basically the same thought: _Please let there be no more bloodshed._

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Ell waited impatiently for the elevator. She should have been up there already, but someone had been coming down the sidewalk just as she came down from the roof and was about to exit the building and cross the street. There was something vaguely familiar about the guy, but she couldn't quite place him. She ended up following him, even going so far as to catch the front door after he entered. The guy was caught up in whatever he was thinking about and didn't even look over his shoulder. She stayed out of sight until he took the elevator. Then she watched the numbers and realized he got off on the third floor which was where she was headed. _Just perfect._ When she got on the elevator after it came back down, she took out her weapon and checked to make sure the safety was off. She missed the weight of the bulletproof vest she would normally be wearing in this type of situation, but she probably wouldn't have been able to strap it around her side anyway.

As the elevator doors opened on the third floor she briefly popped her head out to check the corridor. Seeing it was clear she headed out towards the door with the number on it that JD had mentioned over dinner. She debated heading to the stairwell to talk with the team that had to be there, but before she could make a decision she heard a gunshot come from inside the apartment. Just like that day in the park, Ell reacted without even thinking, kicking in the door and entering the apartment.

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He should have been ready for this possibility. JD had correctly assumed that the head of Mexicali would see the wisdom in not further ticking off the NYPD, but had not counted on his need to front for his boys. So, as soon as JD was granted entrance into the apartment he had been frisked and while he had been allowed to keep his gun, they had taken his phone and smashed it to the ground and he had to deal with countless pathetic insults to his intelligence, his manhood and his mother before they actually started talking about what they were all there for. But just when JD thought he might actually get something accomplished, the shit hit the fan.

A knock came at the door and they let in a fellow gang member, only it wasn't just any gang member. Apparently, from the little bit of Spanish that JD could understand, this new arrival was the guy he was after, the shooter from the park, and it appeared the guy was also responsible for the attack in front of his apartment building. It appeared that he had been ordered to come, but was early. JD guessed that the plan had been to give the kid up that night, but only after negotiating something good for the gang in return. His hand twitched, wanting to reach for his gun, but he refrained because he didn't want to startle anyone into doing something drastic.

Turned out it didn't matter what he did. The kid figured out what was going on and he brought his own weapon up to point at JD. "What do you think you're doing?" the kid yelled. "I ain't going with no pig!"

"Okay, but you need to put that gun down," Deveraux said evenly, carefully keeping his hands up so as to not antagonize the kid further. "You're already in enough trouble, but shooting a cop is going to bring all kinds of hell down on you."

The yelling started to escalate and finally Detective John Deveraux saw the kid get that look in his eyes that every cop dreads, the look that said the perp figured there was no way out so they might as well go down in a blaze of glory. He desperately dove to the floor as the gunshot rang out above him.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN:** I acquired my medical knowledge primarily from the same place as my law enforcement knowledge, namely TV, movies, and books so please excuse anything you know to be slightly fudged. :)

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The human brain was a truly remarkable thing. While time never really slows down, the mind can make it seem like it does. JD had had the sensation before, but never to this degree.

As he flew through the air he was aware that after the initial gunshot, one of the other gang members moved to disarm the shooter. Simultaneously JD was bracing for the hard impact he knew was coming on his ribs which really didn't need any new abuse.

After hitting the floor, Deveraux almost blacked out from the pain. One part of his brain calmly catalogued the fact that his previously only bruised and possibly cracked ribs were now assuredly broken in more than one place. But that concern was overridden when he heard the door to the apartment being broken in and the shout of "FBI!" _What in the hell is she doing here?_ Another shot rang out, probably due to the struggle between the gang members but he couldn't be sure since his vision was blocked by a chair.

Worried that Ell had gotten shot, JD got up much more quickly than anyone would have expected him to be capable of at the moment. He was greeted by the sight of Ell standing over a now unconscious shooter. She turned and approached him. "You okay?" she asked somewhat breathlessly.

He didn't have time to respond before a whole gaggle of SWAT people entered the room shouting orders and pointing weapons. JD quickly put up his hands to placate them, but that movement shifted his ribs and caused a shot of pain to go through him that was so intense he blacked out. He dropped too fast for anyone to catch him but fortunately didn't hit his head too hard on the ground. Unfortunately, seconds later adrenaline was no longer enough to keep Ell on her feet and she too succumbed to the blackness.

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Ell could hear someone calling her name, alternating between pleading and ordering. She focused all of her will and was finally able to open her eyes, though just barely.

"Ella? Thank God." He hadn't called her Ella in years. She didn't think she had ever seen Mac this worried. Even when she was eleven he had managed to stay stoic during that nightmare. For the first time in her memory he actually looked his age.

"Uncle Mac? What's going on?" She felt totally out of it and couldn't make any sense of her surroundings beyond her uncle, so she focused on him.

"You collapsed, hon. But you're going to be fine as soon as we get you to the hospital."

Finally her mind started to clear. She could feel Mac gripping her hand and by the motion she could sense she knew she was probably in an ambulance. But why did she collapse? And then suddenly it all came back.

"JD! Mac, he fell, his ribs—"

"He's okay," Mac rushed to assure her. "Scagnetti's with him in the other ambulance." She sensed there was something he wasn't telling her, but she didn't have the wherewithal to call him on it.

Closing her eyes against the pain she asked the question she desperately needed an answer to. "Was anyone else hurt?"

She felt Mac brush some hair away from her face. "No. You knocking the guy unconscious with your gun kept SWAT from having to shoot him and no one else was interested in making trouble."

Ell breathed a sigh of relief then opened her eyes again to look at her uncle. Could she ask him? What the hell. "Could you maybe ask Mom and Dad to not jump all over me? At least for awhile?"

Mac pursed his lips before answering. "I don't think you give your family enough credit, Ella. I think it's time you talk out a few things."

She closed her eyes, a tear trickling out this time more from the emotion than the pain. "I know, I just…oh Mac, I just wish it had never happened." She didn't catch his reply before slipping back into unconsciousness.

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JD woke up to one of the sounds he hated most in the world, the incessant beeping of hospital equipment. The second thing he became aware of was a tube down his throat. He tried to not panic, but having something like that in you was an extremely unpleasant sensation and could force one's gag reflex. As he opened his eyes the beeping started going faster and JD heard his partner's voice calling for help from the doctors and nurses.

Several minutes later JD had coughed up the tube as instructed. That was going to go down as one of the most painful things he had ever endured. Things eventually calmed and only Scagnetti, JD and his doctor were left in the room.

"You woke up a little earlier than we expected, Detective. We planned to have that out before you woke up." JD read the name on the doctor's nameplate. _Dr. Carter_.

"That's JD, always the overachiever." Scagnetti chuckled as his younger partner lifted his hand enough to give him the finger.

"Why did I have it in the first place?" JD asked the doctor.

"Well," Dr. Carter started, folding his arms over the chart, "you broke a couple of ribs and you managed to puncture a lung with one of them. We had to intubate you for a bit while we went in and repaired the damage, but now you should be fine eventually. You'll be on desk duty for a time obviously, but I have full confidence that you can make a complete recovery." After a few more comments and questions the doctor left with promises to check on him later and the two partners were alone.

"How's Agent Messer?" Even from his slightly fuzzy memory JD could recall the sad shape she had been in and his utter amazement at hearing her enter the apartment.

"Doing better than you last I heard. She had developed a slight fever but they have her back on antibiotics and they think they have that under control. She managed to regain consciousness in the ambulance while you've had us all on pins and needles for hours now."

"Whoa, _regain_ consciousness? She was fine last I remember!"

Scagnetti put his hands in his pockets. "I've been told she collapsed right after you did." He chuckled. "What a pair you two make, falling one right after the other. I think the SWAT guys felt flattered."

Deveraux would have made a smart reply, but he could see the weariness and worry etched into his partner's face. He was obviously covering up his emotions with wit and sarcasm and JD could understand that. "What was SWAT doing there anyway? Did you call them?"

"No. Just after you called me, Mac told me that the raids had been moved up and they just happened to coincide with your meeting. They spotted you and were actually holding until they figured out what to do, but then the shot was fired and they busted in, though Ella had already paved the way by kicking in the door."

JD just nodded. Raising his arms to placate SWAT must have been what shifted one of his broken ribs into his lung. "So," he finally asked, "do I still have a job?"

Scagnetti lifted an eyebrow as he brought his chair closer to the bed and sat back down. "Well, I wouldn't try to approach Danny Messer or Dominic and Devon for a few days, but no, I don't think you need to worry about your job. At least not from them. You know Lt. Fraser is going to have something to say about you going all maverick on this."

JD grimaced. Yeah, going into that apartment solo wasn't something that would impress their immediate supervisor. "Yeah, I'm sure he'll chew me a new one."

"Maybe two." The partners looked at each other and burst out laughing, JD helplessly clutching his side. It was more just a release of emotions than anything else, but the laughter seemed to relieve and help relax them both.

"Hey, man, you should go home to Stacy. I'll probably fall asleep soon anyway."

Scagnetti snorted. "She wouldn't forgive me if I left you here alone. She's been complaining about the house being too quiet ever since Katy went off to college and so she's jumped at the chance to take care of you. She's already started making up JT's room for you so you can come to our place once you get out of the hospital."

Deveraux sighed. It wasn't that he didn't care for Stacy because he really did like her and the rest of the Scagnetti family, too. He just wasn't used to being smothered and he didn't want to be a burden. "You guys really don't have to do that, I'll be fine."

Scagnetti leaned forward putting his arms on his thighs and clasping his hands while becoming serious and looking JD straight in the eye. "I know you've told me you don't have much family to speak of, but I didn't realize how alone you were until the Lieutenant said there was no one listed on your paperwork to call in the case of an emergency. Stacy and I just want to help you out for a few days through the worst of it. The doctors will probably keep you here longer if you don't have someone at home to help you out."

JD blinked trying to keep back the tears that suddenly formed. If asked, he would blame them on the pain, but in truth he was really touched by his partner's words. Nobody had really cared about him to that degree for years. Even before his mom died his life wasn't a bed of roses, and it was really amazing to get the kind of care and kindness from his partner that he had never gotten from his own blood relatives. "Thanks, man, I really appreciate it as long as you're sure I won't be too much trouble."

Scagnetti snorted, quickly sliding back into his usual nonchalant, sarcastic persona. "It's no trouble, believe me. Stacy is in her element when she's taking care of people and I'll finally have someone to watch baseball with. Stacy only watches when Dominic's playing because she knows him and even then she doesn't want to talk stats or strategy, she wants to talk about the kids or what to get from the store. And she knits! Who knits while watching sports?"

JD grinned. Scagnetti was all bark and no bite when it came to his family. And since he had been to their house a couple of times for dinner he knew that Stacy could hold her own with her husband. "Think she'll make some of that apple pie I love so much?"

Scagnetti smiled. "Now you're talking. I bet she'll make you anything you want. We should start planning out meals…" And they talked until JD finally drifted off mid-sentence. Scagnetti waited a few moments to make sure his partner was completely out and then left the room to go find out the latest about the fallout from the meeting/raid, report to people about JD's current condition and, most importantly, call his wife and tell her about JD's desire for apple pie.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: ** Continued thanks to my betas. They know how awesome they are. Not only do they find mistakes, but they also suggest lines and phrases that I end up using that make the story better and I can't thank them enough for that. Here's to you, **printandpolish** and **Kerry Blue**. :)

* * *

Voices around her pulled Ell out of the void. "When did I suddenly become the sane one?" she heard her sister bemoan. "I know I'm older, but she's supposed to be the clear headed one."

Jack snorted. "You're older by all of, what, six minutes? Ow!" Ell could guess at what had happened. An only child like Jack could never fully understand the importance of birth order in sibling relationships whether the gap between births was years or minutes. "Sorry," he muttered, then sighed. "Since I apparently made a huge faux pas, can I make it up to you?"

"Caffeine would do the trick," Ana told him. After taking a few other orders, Ell could hear Jack leave.

"Did you get through to your manager, Dominic?" Lindsay asked her oldest child after the door closed.

"Yeah. Coach has been great about this whole thing, but he'd understandably like me back as soon as possible if just to get the press off his back. We play the Dodgers tomorrow. If Ella's doing better I'll probably catch a plane to LA in the morning." Ell opened her eyes.

"Will you hit a homerun for me, Dom?" Her lame attempt at humor didn't work.

"Ella! Thank God!" Lindsay had been sitting next to her daughter's bed clutching Ell's hand. She now stood up to look down at her daughter and brush her hair away from her face. "How do you feel, honey?"

"Well enough I guess. They've got me back on the good stuff so I can't really feel a whole lot." She quirked a half-smile but nobody was following her down that path.

"Here, let's get you adjusted so you can see everyone." Lindsay fiddled with the bed's controls until finally Ell was in a reclining position rather than flat on her back. "Better?" she asked, sitting back down in her chair but still keeping hold of Ell's hand.

"Much, thanks." She didn't let on that the movement had caused some slight nausea. "Could I get some water?"

After she was done drinking it was pretty obvious that the stalling period was over. "What the hell were you thinking, Ella?"

"Danny!" Lindsay admonished, going along with the cry of "Dad!" from Ana's direction. Devon and Dominic didn't say anything.

"I think I have the right to ask my daughter what in the hell she was doing leaving the hospital after being shot, Montana," he replied, using the name to refer to both his wife and his elder daughter.

"It's okay, I owe you guys a big apology," Ell broke in. "I'm sorry I caused so much hassle. Dom, I hope the team won't give you too much trouble, and Devon, I'm really sorry if your commanding officer gives you crappy duty for awhile because of the leave you took. And the rest of you guys and Uncle Mac and Uncle Sheldon and Aunt Tessa and everyone, I'm so sorry about all of the craziness I'm sure you've been put through." She didn't look up from her lap while she whispered all of that, coming as close to breaking down as her family had seen from her since she was a teenager.

There was a long pause as the Messer family sat in a state of shock. Finally Danny sat on the side of his younger daughter's bed and lifted her chin until she was looking him in the eye. "Daniella Messer, that's not what you need to apologize for," he said gently, close to tears himself. "None of us would ever begrudge the time and energy to be there for you when you need it, just like you wouldn't mind making the time for us. It's the fact that you don't seem to want us to be there for you that really hurts."

"I _do_ want you guys there," Ell murmured, fiercely gripping her mother's hand. "I just…" She closed her eyes from the inability to articulate what was going on in her head.

"You wish it hadn't happened. You wish you could go back twenty years and change everything." Everyone looked at Ana as she came to sit on her sister's bed next to her feet and started rubbing Ell's leg. "That's what you told me the night you ran away, remember? That you wished you could change everything, that you could erase all the pain." Tears ran down Ana's cheeks to match the ones now running down the sides of Ell's face. "But you _can't_, Ella. Just like I can't erase the guilt I have over having been the reason you were at Aunt Stella's to begin with."

"Ana," Dom said softly, coming up to lay a hand on her shoulder.

"I know, I know I couldn't help getting strep throat, just like Mom and Dad made the right decision in splitting us all up that day so you guys wouldn't catch it. It doesn't change the feelings I have." She looked her twin in the eye. "Ella, we're not going to be upset at you for having the feelings. I've dealt with my own for years and I didn't want to talk about it either which is why I didn't push you even when I could tell that you were still letting Aunt Stella's death influence your life. But _God_, Ella, you can't do this. I can't lose you because you push everyone away…" Ana dissolved into crying and leaned her head onto her older brother's chest.

Ell's heart broke. She had done what she had strived her whole life to avoid. She had cut her family out of much of her life because she didn't want to burden them with her problems, didn't want to cause them pain by reliving Stella's death like she still did sometimes at night after a tough case. But by cutting herself off she had caused an even bigger hurt. "I just…I wanted all of you guys to move on with your lives like I've never been able to, and I didn't want to drag you down with me. And I just couldn't deal with anyone else getting hurt because of me."

"Baby," Lindsay said, close to sobbing herself, "nobody got hurt because of you. You were a child, there was nothing you could have done."

Ell let out a ragged breath. "That's what all the shrinks said but that didn't stop the feelings, Mom. The memories…" She looked back over to her father.

"We all have bad memories, Ella," Danny replied, rubbing his daughter's other hand between both of his. "And I've had to learn this lesson the hard way, but they really are easier if you don't carry the burden alone." He dropped her hand and put both of his on her face, bringing his head within inches of hers to emphasize his next point. "And for the record, you could never 'drag' us down. We're your family. When you're down, we're there to pull you up. And I guarantee this family is stronger than _anything_ that's pulling you down."

As Ell started sobbing uncontrollably, Danny kissed her forehead and then pulled her head down on his shoulder, mimicking what he had done for her when she was a little girl having nightmares after experiencing something that no one should have to go through, let alone a child.

Devon came closer to lay a comforting hand on his mother's shoulder as she joined her daughters in the crying. To be completely honest, there wasn't a dry eye in the room. And while they still had a ways to go, the healing that the Messer family had been needing for twenty years finally began.

CSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINY

Mac sat watching Ella as she slept. A few hours ago the rest of the Messer clan had exited her room finally with red, tired eyes, but an obvious weight had been lifted from their shoulders. They were all reluctant to leave the hospital, but finally they had all headed out. Devon had gotten a call from his CO saying he needed to join his team ASAP. Kaile offered to drive him to the airport and Dominic went along for the ride. Despite her protests, Jack finally convinced Ana that she needed to go home and get some sleep. The emotions of the past week coupled with whatever had gone on in Ella's hospital room had drained the elder Messer daughter completely and Jack practically had to hold her up as they left.

Danny and Lindsay were the last to go. Lindsay fell asleep and Danny, after securing a promise from Mac that he would watch Ella until another family member took his place, picked her up and took her home for a few hours of sleep. Mac knew Lindsay would protest being carried if she had been awake out of a concern for Danny possibly hurting himself, but Mac didn't say anything to him about it. He did however make sure that someone drove them.

Mac sighed and shifted in the uncomfortable hospital chair as he watched his goddaughter. He was glad she had apparently talked openly to her parents and siblings about what was going on with her. One conversation wouldn't solve everything, but it would at least halt the downward spiral that for some time now he had feared she was on.

He should have done something about it years ago. He had to admit to himself that he had let his own damn pain and issues get in the way of helping her. Everyone thought he was the strong, stoic type that could handle anything that was thrown at him when in reality he was a coward. He was stoic because denying even to himself that he had emotions was the only way he could move forward.

He had fooled family, friends and colleagues into thinking that he had moved on. He had somewhat. A few women had managed to reach at least a small part of his heart. But he had kidded even himself into thinking it was enough.

He leaned forward and stared at his hands. Maybe it was time for him to finally let go of what he had hid behind as a way of staying busy and not dealing with things- his job. It wasn't a decision he would make tonight, but for the first time he really considered the possibility. He had already set a bad example for his nieces and nephews in so many other ways, they didn't need to learn how to be a workaholic who held onto the job by his fingernails until it was ripped from him or he died doing it.

He looked up and gazed at Ella's face. _It's always been the women in my life who have caused the most change,_ he thought._ First was Claire making me realize there was more to life than just existing. Then Stella forced me to realize that there was still life after Claire's death by pushing me back into the land of the living instead of dwelling on the dead. And now Ella has finally taken the step back into the family that I've never had the courage to do. Deep down I'm just as cut off from everyone as she has been, people just accept it from me because that's the way I've always been._ He sighed and again sat back against the hard plastic. He was too old to change too much about himself, but he vowed then and there that he wouldn't forget the lessons he had learned. _I'm finally getting it now Claire. I'll stop to smell the roses you loved so much. And I can take a hint, Stella. This one was about as loud as that time you slammed that automatic weapon down on my desk, but maybe that was what I needed._ He closed his eyes and drifted off into a light slumber while clutching his niece's hand, dreaming of his late wife and best friend until Sheldon came in to take his place at Ella's bedside.


	12. Epilogue

_A little over 3 weeks later…_

JD sipped the last of his water, then tossed the plastic bottle into a nearby recycling bin and continued down the path. It was a beautiful day in Central Park and it seemed like everyone was taking advantage of it. The normalcy of the atmosphere was amazing to him. Nobody seemed worried that just a month ago bullets were flying in this very park. A diverse group of people populated the park walking their dogs, throwing Frisbees, sitting on the grass to read a book, pushing strollers, or, like him, just walking and enjoying the day.

He would have liked to jog the path, but while his recovery was going well, he didn't quite have the lung capacity for more than a walk at this point. He was almost surprised Stacy Scagnetti had let him out of her sight. But he was moving back to his apartment tomorrow and in a week would be starting minimal desk duty. Well, as long as his next doctor's appointment went okay.

Putting his hands in the pockets of his sweats, JD continued through the park. He felt a brush of air as a couple of kids came whizzing by him on roller blades. He could remember careening around on those as a kid. Everything made a comeback he guessed. He watched the kids as they raced down the paved walk, weaving in and around pedestrians. They passed a bench and suddenly JD noticed the woman sitting there.

"Fancy meeting you here," he said, taking off his sunglasses and smiling down at Ell Messer.

She looked up and smiled. "Hi." She gestured next to her. "Want to take a seat, or do you want to keep walking?"

"I'd love to walk if you don't mind and if you're up to it. I feel like I've been sitting down or laying on my back nigh on forever."

Ell chuckled. "I know what you mean." She got up, slinging her tote bag over her shoulder. As they started walking, she pulled a water bottle out of her bag. "Would you like one?"

He smiled. "Sure, thanks." He took the offered drink, but didn't open it yet since he had just finished his last one. They walked for a few minutes without saying anything before he finally broke the silence. "So, is this really a coincidence, or were you waiting for me?"

Ell shifted the strap of her bag a little on her shoulder. "I called the Scagnetti's house to see if you would mind if I came over and John let me know where you were." She paused before continuing, her voice a little less sure of itself now. "I'm sorry I haven't been by to see you before now. I've been kind of…busy mending fences I guess you could say." She glanced at him and smiled a little self-consciously.

"How's that going for you?"

She sighed. "Okay. It's hard because by nature I've always been more reserved than most of my family, so sometimes it's a little difficult for them to gauge when I'm holding back from them and when I'm just being me."

JD hung his sunglasses on the front of his t-shirt. "Well, I don't know how much help I can be there. I didn't have a lot of family growing up, so I don't really understand that whole dynamic." Something occurred to him and he stopped in the middle of the path. "Wait a second, I'm not one of those fences you think you need to mend, am I?" She had stopped and turned to face him when he halted and now her face gave away the answer to his question. He gently took her arm and pulled her off the path so that they were out of other people's way. "There's nothing to mend with me, Agent Messer."

She half-smiled at him. "I think there is if you're back to calling me Agent Messer." She looked down at her feet, then back up to lock eyes with him. "I'm sorry for, well, everything."

JD put his hands in his pockets. "I called you Agent Messer because I didn't know if you still wanted me to call you by your first name. And like I said, there's nothing for you to be sorry for." He ran a hand through his hair. "Actually, I've been thinking I should apologize to you."

Ell cocked her head to the side. "Whatever for?"

"Two things. One, I should never have even suggested that plan of us going to the meeting alone. Neither of us was in good shape for it. I should have coordinated it properly and then just called to tell you what had happened. Second, I've felt bad since that day that I didn't tell you about your sister getting injured. I should have respected you enough to tell you about something that happened to your family."

The woman who had been on his mind for the past three weeks shook her head. "No, I wasn't in a good place that week. If you had told me about the shooting outside your apartment building I probably would have sunk even deeper and it would have been even harder for my family to pull me out. And if you had told me about the meeting but not invited me along, I probably would have gone anyway and made an even worse mess of things." She walked over to a nearby tree and leaned against it. "To be completely honest with you, I've…I've started to doubt my judgment. I've always been kind of known as a fearless leader and I'm starting to wonder if maybe I don't have enough fear."

She looked away from him and Deveraux could see the beginnings of tears in her eyes. From everything he had heard about Ell Messer in the last few weeks she wasn't someone who cried easily and rarely if ever in front of anyone outside of her family. He almost felt honored at being allowed to see that part of her.

"From what Scagnetti tells me you're the best the FBI has," JD told her. "No, really," he said in response to her snort at that statement. "He told me about that child prostitution ring you broke down in Texas."

She looked back at him in disbelief. "How does he know about that?"

"You're kidding, right? I had actually already heard about the case, I just didn't know the particulars or your connection to it, how you were instrumental in bringing it down. Besides, is there anything about your family that the entire NYPD doesn't know?" He grinned as she rolled her eyes. "I felt so out of the loop that week after you were shot that while I've been staying at Scagnetti's I've been letting him tell me all the NYPD gossip he thinks I should know."

Ell groaned. "I can't imagine what you think of me now after some of the stories he must have told."

He was stepping out on a limb, but he went for it anyway. "I think you're an amazing person. And I don't think you need to worry about your judgment when it comes to your job. Every one of us in this job reaches a point where we're either going to burn out or we're going to take time to examine ourselves and reevaluate why we're doing the job and gain a new perspective that helps us get it done to retirement." He met her eyes unflinchingly. "You've apparently seen where you've gone wrong in your personal and professional life and you're taking steps to fix what you can. That's all anyone can do."

She took several moments to digest his words, running a hand through her dark tresses. Finally, she smiled at him. "You know, my family thinks I'm perceptive when it comes to other people, but you might have me beat."

JD shrugged and grinned. "What can I say, it's a gift."

Ell laughed and he was captivated by the sound. "That it is." She relaxed back against the tree. "So, what other stories did you hear about me from Scagnetti?"

"Well, let's see, there was the story about how you and your sister attended the Christmas Ball for all the emergency services on the arms of a couple of firefighters. How old were you again? Seventeen?"

She groaned and grabbed his arm to pull him back onto the path where they continued walking. "That was totally Ana's fault! I thought my dad and my uncles were going to kill us after they killed our poor dates…" And they strolled on, taking pleasure in each other and the beautiful Saturday in the park.

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**AN:** The end! For this story anyway. But I fully intend to keep writing stories in this AU because it's just too much fun. :) To that end I need help in deciding what to write/post next. I have the beginnings of two stories, one that is a prequel to Saturday in the Park titled "The Day the Music Died" and one that is a sequel titled "We Can Work it Out." Based on that information alone, what story would you guys prefer to see next? 

Until I get a good idea of what people want and I write enough of it to start posting, thanks for reading! I'm so glad so many people seemed to have enjoyed my little story. You guys have been great. And one last shout out to my amazing betas, **Kerry Blue** and **printandpolish** without whom I don't know if I ever would have actually pushed to finish and post this thing. :)


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